


Tunnel Lights

by demonsonthemoon



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, Nonbinary Character, Other, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-04 12:43:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 42,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1779553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonsonthemoon/pseuds/demonsonthemoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The thing, about trains, is the people.<br/>The people you meet, or nearly-meet. Those you see out of the corner of your eyes, those that brighten your day by smiling in your direction, those you want to hug because they look so utterly alone.</p><p>The thing, about trains, is that they keep moving.<br/>Even when your heart stops, for a beat or two."</p><p>AKA: Enjolras and Grantaire meet in a train. Grantaire likes what she sees. Then they meet again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Caro, anastasiapullingteeth on tumblr, because she's never taken a train in her life. What a shame.

The thing, about trains, is the people.  
The people you meet, or nearly-meet. Those you see out of the corner of your eyes, those that brighten your day by smiling in your direction, those you want to hug because they look so utterly alone.

The thing, about trains, is that they keep moving.  
Even when your heart stops, for a beat or two.

*****

When Grantaire remembered that breathing was something actually needed in survival, air crashed through her body like a wave, making her giddy.  
Grantaire had always thought that there was a thing to be said about beauty. A thing to be said about white marble, a poem to write about the sunset, a chorus to sing about autumn leaves on sunny days. She also thought there was a whole library that needed to be dedicated to beautiful people. With probably a whole section reserved to the person that had just gotten on the train.

By the time she had come back to herself, the stranger had left the car and walked into the next one. Grantaire immediately stood up, ignoring the weird glance she got from the business man that had been seated in front of her. She picked up her bag and drawing pad, and followed the path the beautiful person had taken.  
Just as she was doing it, she started quietly chanting "it's not creepy if I don't do anything, it's not creepy if I don't do anything." It did little to reassure her, but the urge was too great anyway. She finally found the car the stranger had decided to sit in and sighed in relief and happiness.  
The seats next to them were all taken, but there was one left on the other side of the train, facing the stranger. She sat down, put her bag under the seat, and picked up the pencil stuck between the rings that kept the sheets of her sketchpad together.  
Then she looked at the stranger again, really looked this time. They had picked up their phone and were typing on it. The phone didn't have any fancy case, just a plain white one for protection purposes only. The nails typing on it were painted black.  
Grantaire looked up slightly, at the person's face. They had high cheekbones, a pale skin on which Grantaire could barely make out a few freckles and blond hair. Grantaire almost whimpered just looking at their hair. It was gathered on the left side of their face, with an undercut on the right side. A plait ran the whole length between the long and the shaved part. It was not hair, it was pure golden glory.  
Grantaire slef-consciously ran a hand through what was exposed of her thick black curls. She looked at their clothes next, because clothes always reveal part of a person's character. Black boots with a small heel, simple jeans and a black t-shirt under a red leather jacket and a scarf. Confidence, Grantaire thought. She decidedly did not mentally go over her own outfit, green skirt, leg warmers and an oversized sweater, along with a beanie desperetly trying to tame her hair. She screamed art student from a hundred miles away, but always with colors dark enough to let her blend in.

The stranger put down their phone and looked up. Grantaire blushed as their gazes met, and bent herself over her sketchpad, pretending to be totally absorbed by the doodling of a tree. After ten minutes, the train stopped at her station. She hesitated between getting up and staying there, but reason won her over and she left with a last glance towards the stranger who was now looking through the window.

*****

"You are weird," Grantaire sighed as her friend Jehan squealed on her knees. She was definitely not the first one to say that to the boy, not when his short strawberry blond hair framed eyes made up in greens and golds while his battered leather jacket was paired with a strawberry necklace and jeans held in place by green suspenders. It was definitely not the first time she had told him that either. Still. "You are just so weird."  
Jehan looked up at her and kissed her cheek softly, sprawled on both her and the sofa. "But you met someone!!!" Jehan said, the multiple exclamation marks perfectly audible in his voice. "That's awesome!"  
Grantaire rolled her eyes. "I didn't meet someone. I saw someone on a train. And they were pretty. And they looked at me. And I looked away. That's all it is and all it will ever be."  
Jehan left her lap and stood up gravely. "Now, don't you say that. You don't know anything. Why don't you try? Why don't you try seeing that stranger again?"  
"Because I met them by pure chance on a crowded train! You've got to be realistic from time to time!"  
"But that's no fun," Jehan replied drily. "If you only ever give yourself realistic goals, you'll never make anything amazing." He sat down again next to her, and she put an arm around his shoulders. He relaxed into the embrace and they both stayed silent for a while.  
"You've read too many romance novels."  
"I know," Jehan said with a smile.  
"How does that even work?"  
"Romance novels are more about people finding happiness than about people finding love. That's not difficult to relate to."  
Grantaire hummed, satisfied with the answer.  
"Would you be able to draw them? That person from the train, I mean."  
Grantaire thought about it for a second, closing her eyes. The image was perfectly clear in her mind, lines unfurling under the power of her consciousness to form eyes and a nose, the curve of lips.  
"I think I could."  
Jehan grinned, his head turned away from Grantaire so he couldn't see it. He didn't even have to ask, now that the idea had been planted in his friend's brain, she wouldn't be able not to draw that person. Not when considering the words that Grantaire had used to describe them. Bright having made more than one apparition.

Grantaire had used the exact same word when she had first met Jehan. She had awkwardly asked if she could maybe draw him, distracting him from the poetry book he had been holding.  
"I've been here for a while, not knowing what to draw, and I saw you and you're just so... bright," She had said. "Can I draw you?"  
Jehan had shrugged and nodded. "Do you need me to pose or something?"  
"No, it's okay," she had said, fidgeting. "You can go back to reading, as long as you just don't change position."  
Jehan had done just that and gone back to his reading of Dante's "Divine Comedy", nearly forgetting that someone was drawing him just a few meters away, until Grantaire had tapped his shoulder to show him the drawing, dark curls hiding half of her eyes but not long enough for the blush on her cheeks not to be visible.  
Saying that Jehan had been impressed would be an understatement. Grantaire had taken the time to ink the drawing in purple marker, and the color filled the page, a few unnecessary lines giving it a sketch-like style. The drawing still managed to undoubtedly look like Jehan. The lines that made up the shape of his profile were slightly darker, and so were the ones outlining his hair, eyes, nose and smile. It was beautiful, in an other-wordly way.  
"It's amazing," Jehan said in a breath, and Grantaire smiled while biting her lips. "Can I have it?"  
Grantaire nodded. "I would like to keep a copy of it though. I can go and make one now, I don't live far away."  
Jehan nodded, closed his book and stood up. "Can I come with you?"  
He had. And he had stayed ever since.

*****

"I think you should add more red."  
"Don't laugh at me."  
"No, I'm serious. Or maybe some more gold?"  
"Stop laughing, I hate you."  
"You do not."  
"I do."

Jehan stuck out his tongue at his friend, still giggling. He had been right about the drawing. Grantaire had spent almost all of the night on it, claiming that she hadn't been able to sleep anyway, and it had been lying on the kitchen table when Jehan had come down for breakfast.  
The face of the stranger was just how Grantaire had described it the previous day, including the complicated haircut. Jehan had learned that his artistic friend liked to play with outlines, and this time the portrait was all drowned in red, including the fully colored top of a jacket, except for the hair that had been colored in a golden blond.  
Jehan could see that the person was beautiful, could see it as clear as day, and wondered how overwhelmed Grantaire must have been seeing them.  
Grantaire loved beauty. She loved beauty with all her heart, and was entranced by it, so much that she could cry with it. She saw the beauty in the world, everywhere, and that is why her heart shattered so often, that is why there was a bottle of pills on the top of their fridge, that is why they didn't have any alcohol stronger than beer in the apartment.  
Jehan ran a hand through his friend's hair, and smiled when she leaned into his touch.

"This would make such a nice fairy-tale romance," he said softly.  
"I don't believe in fairy-tales," Grantaire replied.  
"Mmh-mmh."


	2. Chapter 2

The drawing got forgotten in a pile somewhere. Forgotten among the classes, the morning coffees - too bitter but necessary - and the midnight insomnias.  
The due date for Grantaire's latest art project was approaching, and she felt the nervousness build up in her body, as if she was an immense jenga tower waiting to collapse. It wasn't such a big deal. She was used to the feeling.  
It had been 10 days since she had first seen the stranger, and they hadn't plagued her dreams for six nights now. She left university and climbed on the train that would lead her back to the apartment she and Jehan shared, just outside of Paris.  
She found a sitting place in the first car she tried and immediately sat down, calling it her lucky day. For a while, she watched the scenery go by, unaware of her eyes closing slowly.

"Wake up." Grantaire groaned slightly, batting away the hand shaking her shoulder. "Please, wake up. I think we're at your stop."  
That made her open her eyes immediately, and she turned to look at the window next to her. The train had already stopped, and yes, it was her stop. She immediately stood up and turned towards the person who had woken her up.  
She almost dropped her bag.  
That was them. That was them, she was sure of it, even if their hair was now flowing freely on the side of their face. That was the stranger from 10 days ago, the one of whom she had made a drawing.  
She felt a blush starting to grow on her face. Hopefully, people would think she was ashamed of having fallen asleep.  
"Th-Thank you so much."  
"This is your stop, right?" Grantaire nodded furiously. "You would better go, the doors will close soon."  
"Yes, I... I'm gonna go. Thanks again." The stranger waved at her as she ran to the door, slipping out of the train just before they closed. She was left standing on the platform as the train left, staring at nothing.  
They had remembered her stop. Who the hell remembers a stranger's stop?  
Still in a state of shock, she started walking towards her apartment. Jehan would want to know about this.

*****

"So... You saw the Beautiful Stranger you may or may not have made a drawing of again, and they actually remembered you."  
"Yeeeeessss." Grantaire said, voice muffled by the pillow her face was lying on.  
"And would you care to explain how that is a reason for you to be lying on the couch like a dejected sock?"  
"You wound me Jehan. Do I really look that terrible?"  
"For my personal safety, I will choose not to answer that question."  
Grantaire flipped him a finger, without moving her body an inch.  
"Tss-tss," came Jehan's voice as he walked to the kitchen. "Do you want some ice-cream?"  
Grantaire pulled herself up on her elbows so that she would be heard correctly. "It's fucking December, Jehan!"  
The young man came out of the kitchen holding a pot of mango Häagen-Dasz ice-cream. He aggressively pointed at Grantaire with his spoon.  
"December will not stop me from being happy, and right now my happiness involves ice-cream. Stop judging."  
Grantaire flopped back down on the couch, groaning. There was a moment of silence, and then...  
"Oh my fuCKING GOD JEHAN GO AWAY I HATE YOU!" she screamed, cursing her friend who had just sat down on her legs, placing his cold pot of ice-cream right on the part of her lower back that had been revealed by her shirt. Jehan stood up, so that they were able to both sit next to each other. "You're such a total asshole, I will end you."  
"Sure you will," Jehan smirked.  
Grantare put a finger in the pot and licked it clean, throwing a death glare at her friend, who pointedly used his spoon to put more ice-cream in his mouth.  
"Joly and Bossuet wanted to maybe go out tonight. 'You coming, or do you have work to do?"  
Grantaire thought about it, playing with one button of her white shirt.  
"I... I guess I can free one evening, right?"  
"You're a gem," Jehan said, standing up and planting a quick kiss on his friend's nose.  
"And you're my tiara," Grantaire replied automatically.  
Jehan winked. "I'm going to get some tea, hold the ice-cream."

*****

The music in the bar was loud, so Joly, Bossuet, Jehan and Grantaire carefully made their way to a table in a corner, isolating themselves from the joyous chaos.  
"Are you sure you're okay?" Joly asked with concern, as he watched Grantaire immediately sit down on the closest chair.  
"Yes, Joly, I am fine," Grantaire said, crossing her legs and putting her beanie in her purse. "I'm just tired. It's my exam project, that's all."  
Joly sat down too, worrying is bottom lip and looking entirely unconvinced.  
"I thought that you, of all people, would understand. Med school exams aren't exactly a piece of cake, from what I learned."  
Bossuet groaned from where he was checking the bar's menu with Jehan. "Please. Don't get him started, I've actually had to listen to him revising for anatomy aloud at the breakfast table. He had pictures and everything. It was gross."  
They all laughed as Joly shrugged.  
"What about you, Bossuet?" Jehan asked as he came back from the bar with two beers and two different cocktail glasses. One had a dubious bubblegum-pink color, and he delicately placed it in front of the law student, careful not to displace the small umbrella that was decorating it. "How is law school?"  
"I'm going to have to hand in an additional project for my Latin Law class, because I was marked absent one too many times."  
Joly started laughing, and Bossuet shot him a dark glance.  
"Tell them how it happened," Joly added joyfully. "Tell them or I will."  
"Fine!" Bossuet gave up, throwing his arms in the air. He took a sip from his cocktail, the color making Grantaire cringe, and started his story. "I've told you about my Latin Law teacher before right? He's this grumpy old man who probably still thinks that girls with red hair should be burnt on a pyre. He still takes attendance. Who takes attendance at university?"  
All of his friends nodded, so he continued. "Anyway, as usual, he picked a few random names from his list and called for them. And then he called for this kid, something Pontmercy." He took one more gulp out of his drink. "I don't really know the guy, but he's that shy looking boy, the type who would never hurt a fly, and I had never seen him miss a class before. I think 'Well, Lesgles, this is your chance to do something for the world' and I raise my hand in his place." Joly giggled next to him. "Of course the teacher then decides to call my own name, and I have to raise my hand again. He sends me this weird-looking glare, and asks whether or not I am both Mr. Pontmercy and Mr. Lesgles, to which I respond that I am not, and then, noticing that I already have a few days of abscence - from that time I managed to get locked in my own car, and the one the kitcher nearly caught on fire - he said I would have to hand in additional work to get my credits validated."  
"Ouch, rude," Grantaire said around her bottle of beer. "Ask that kid you saved to repay you somehow, you deserve it."  
"Nah... I actually talked to him earlier today, because someone had told him the story and he wanted to apologize. Kid's got enough on his mind already. He just got kicked out of his house."  
"Seriously?!" Joly exclaimed. "You hadn't told me that."  
"Yeah, something about an argument with his grandfather? But apparently a friend of his already offered his couch, so there shouldn't be too many problems."

The evening went on in a cheerful atmosphere. Joly paid for the second round, pushing a glass of water in Grantaire's direction, which she accepted without a word.  
Jehan and her took the metro back to their apartment, tired but relaxed. As soon as their door was closed, Jehan shrugged off his coat that he left on the living-room couch, and made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Grantaire was left standing alone. She felt the fatigue that had been settling in her body for a while wash over her again, but under it was a kind of electric current that wanted to keep her awake. She sighed. It wasn't the time to give in and pick up a pencil for another sleepless night. Her little nap on the train was proof of that.

*****

Grantaire woke up in a sweat, clutching her blanket. She immediately shivered, the cold December air seeping through the cloth of her pyjamas. She took a few seconds to get back her breath, then rolled around to check the time on her phone. 5:23. She still had more than an hour and a half to wait before she could even think of leaving for university. And even then, she would have to walk around campus for a while before the start of her classes.  
Lying on her back, one hand on her forehead, she stared at the ceiling. She counted her breaths, feeling the air flow through her lungs. 1, 2. 1, 2. 1, 2.  
Slowly, she calmed down, and closed her eyes once more. Too aware of the sounds her own body was making, she couldn't manage to lose consciousness again. She decided that lying awake was a waste of time and got up, wincing when she opened the curtains to a sky that was still nearly pitch-black.  
She picked a tartan skirt from her wardrobe, added thights, a t-shirt and some old band sweater she had bought at a concert a few years ago. The apartment wasn't the warmest place on earth, as she and Jehan both prefered wearing additional layers to having to pay astronomical heating bills.  
She picked one of the pens lying on her desk, then looked around for a sheet of paper. Her actual sketchbook was in her schoolbag, lying in the living-room, and she didn't want to have to walk in front of Jehan's room and risk waking him up. She put the pen on her ear as not to lose it and started looking through the pile of documents that she had somehow amassed in the course of the year.  
A lot of them were drawings, mostly sheets covered in doodles from train journeys, with a few legitimate pieces drawn between school projects. There were also notes from her courses, that she shamefully put back where they belonged. Her exams were approaching, even if they started later than most of her friends'.  
As she picked up a few more pages, looking for a missing chapter from her Art History notes, she glanced at the drawing of the Beautiful Train Stranger, as they had been dubbed by Jehan. She picked it up, smiling.  
Maybe it was stupid, as she had told her friend, but she was still hoping she would see them again. Now that they had woken her up and saved her from an impossibly longer train journey, she could use a real apology as an excuse to strike a conversation.  
She snorted. Once her desk actually consisted of a flat surface again, having found no blank sheet at all, she decided to give up and go get breakfast. She walked carefully past Jehan's room and into the living-room that was joined with their kitchen.

Jehan emerged from his room as she was cleaning her dishes and groaned. "How can you be up so damn early?"  
She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm not hungover, that helped."  
Jehan groaned again and cursed under his breath.  
"I'm gonna leave know, even though it's early. That way I can grab a coffee before I get to class." Jehan nodded, sparing a glare for their coffee machine who had been broken for two weeks. "Enjoy your day off, sunshine!"  
She picked up her bag and retrieved a leather jacket from her bedroom, then stepped into the hallway, quickly walking down the two flight of stairs to get some fresh air.  
It was still definitely too early, but at the same time it was beautiful. The colors of the sky weren't definite. As the sun kept rising, they seemed changing, hesitating between light and darkness. She walked quickly to the train station, trying to keep warm. There was no one in sight as she got to the platform to wait for her train.  
She took her phone out to snap a picture of the rising sun shining on the railtracks and sent it to Jehan with a smile. The train finally arrived, and she watched it advance slowly, trying to guess at the lives of the few ghost-like passengers that were inside.  
And then there was light. There was light, and her jaw dropped, and she didn't even register climbing in before her cellphone dinged with a thank you from Jehan and she quickly typed back:  
"I'm living in a fairy-tale."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos that were left on this fic! It really warms my heart to see my work being so well-received and I really hope I'll manage to keep you satisfied as the story goes along!


	3. Chapter 3

Grantaire took a deep breath and sat herself down in front of the blond that seemed extremely focused on whatever they were reading on their computer. She coughed softly, to no avail. Internally screaming, she looked around, but no one was their to pity her misery. She sighed and slowly waved a hand in front of the computer screen.  
The blond looked up, their eyes throwing daggers. The gaze quickly softened into curious confusion.  
"Hi?" said the stranger, and Grantaire could have screamed from how self-conscious she felt.  
"Hi." She replied anyway, cursing her mind for being empty of things to say. "We've met before? You woke me up and probably saved me an hour of train journey?"  
The stranger blinked, then smiled cautiously. "Yes, I remember you." They closed their computer and held out a hand. "I'm Enjolras. Nice to... officially meet you?" Grantaire smiled as they shaked hands, and sat herself down in front of Enjolras. "I'm agender, not male, not female, so if you could use neutral language and ey/eir/em pronouns when referring to me, I would really appreciate it."  
Grantaire gaped, then, before she could stop herself, let out a short laugh that earned her an offended look from Enjolras. She held up her hand to stop em from interrupting her.  
"Sorry. I wasn't laughing at you. I'm Grantaire, I use she/her pronouns and it took me two years to come out as female to my best friend, so I'm fucking impressed at how easy it seems to be for you."  
Enjolras looked like ey was ready to add something else, but then thought better of it. They both smiled.  
"I didn't interrupt anything important? I just wanted to thank you again for that day, but I can leave you if you've got work to do..." Grantaire said the words even if she didn't mean them at all. All of her body was telling her that she should stay here, at this exact place, as long as she could, not moving an each further away from the beautiful stranger named Enjolras who had apparently deemed her worthy of eir time since ey replied "You're welcome, once again. And no, nothing important. Well, nothing that can't wait the time of a train journey."  
Grantaire was bursting with excitment, without really knowing why or how. She could hear her phone vibrating in her pocket, probably a new text from Jehan, but didn't pick it up.  
The train slowed down, then came to a halt, and both of them looked out the window to see which stopped they had reached.  
"Where are you getting off?" Grantaire asked.  
"Four more stops."  
"Just after me, then." She smiled, conscious of the time running out. "Going to university?" She gestured at eir laptop and the messenger bag lying under eir seat.  
"Yes. Political sciences."  
"No shit," said Grantaire, a hint of laughter under her breath. The remark earned her a raised eyebrow, but no comment. "Art school. If you were wondering. Which you probably weren't, but yeah. I'm probably not gonna change the world, which I assume is what you want to do."  
"You assume?"  
Grantaire bit her lip, conscious that she was letting herself talk too much, which was probably not a good idea. "You give off that vibe. That vibe that screams confidence and look at me, for I am something you haven't seen yet. You look like someone who would change things."  
Enjolras cocked eir head, a curious smile on eir lips. "You speak well. I'm not entirely sure why you talk like that, but you do it well."  
Self-consciously, Grantaire ran a hand through her hair and shrugged. "Must be my roommate rubbing off on me. English major. He wants to become a poet."  
"He seems like a good person to know."  
"Well, if you're not put off by bright colours..." Her phone vibrated again, interrupted her. "Sorry. Speaking of the devil, I'm just gonna tell him I'm not dead..."  
She took out her phone, an old battered thing with a case she had painted over more than once. Unlocking it, she was greeted by three unread messages from Jehan.  
The oldest one read "Has what I think happened happened?", while the others respectively said: "Come on, R, don't leave a guy hanging like that!" and "Are you involved in something hot or did you just got killed?"  
She laughed softly, quickly texting back that nothing tragic had happened, but that the situation was still definitely lacking in sexual tension. As a postscript, she quickly added: "I'm sitting in front of Train Stranger. I'm talking to Train Stranger. Train Stranger's name is Enjolras."  
She then put her phone on mute and back in her bag.  
"Sorry about that," she said. "We can be kind of protective of each other."  
"I get it. I have two close friends that act the same way with me."  
Grantaire smiled as the train stopped again. Her stop was next, and she dreaded the moment. "So you're like a triumvirate of some sort?"  
"Sorry?" Enjolras raise eir eyebrows, head turned slightly  
"You and your friends," Grantaire explained.  
"Oh!" Ey shrugged. "I guess so? We've known each other since primary school. Some say we have a telepathic bond."  
Grantaire laughed at that. The train was moving again, and she looked at the familiar scenery with disappointment.  
"I'm getting off at the next stop," she said. Enjolras nodded, silent. "It was really nice talking to you? I mean, I just wanted to thank you at first, and I'm sorry I distracted you but... it was nice." She ran a hand through her hair, blushing furiously.  
"I can give you my phone number?" said Enjolras. "If you want to talk more someday?"  
Grantaire could have danced in joy, as she had been way too afraid to ask for it herself. She took out her phone again as ey slowly spelled out eir number. Just as they were finishing, the train entered the station. She excused herself, got up with a smile and a wave, then stepped off. While walking, she quickly texted the new number. "It was nice :)"

*****

Like she had planned, Grantaire arrived at the campus way too early for any of her classes. She spent the time she had in the library, trying to catch up on work and clear her thoughts of any picture of blue eyes and dazzling blond hair. Even without that, though, she kept getting distracted by texts from Jehan.

:3 Jehan: OMG  
:3 Jehan: OMG Grantaire what did they say?  
:3 Jehan: What are you talking about???  
:3 Jehan: ANSWER ME!  
:3 Jehan: You cut off your phone didn't you?  
:3 Jehan: Rude.

R: You're the worst.

:3 Jehan: YOU'RE BACK!!! Tell me everything, I know your classes don't start until a good hour.

R: There's not much to tell. Enjolras is a charming poli-sci non-binary student on eir way to change the world.  
R: And ey gave me eir number.

:3 Jehan: !!!!!  
:3 Jehan: !!! THAT IS SO COOL!!! Did you call already?

R: Jehan!  
R: We just officially met! and talked for half an hour! What did you expect me to do? Call and tell em I have a drawing of eir face locked in a drawer?

:3 Jehan: ... yeah?

R: You're the worst.

Her phone stayed silent after that. It was expected, Jehan has his own classes to go to. With still an hour of free time and too much information swimming inside her head already, Grantaire closed her book and sighed. Much to her annoyance, some of Jehan's innocent excitment had been passed onto her and she felt giddy with it, itching for her phone and its new number. Instead, she picked up a pencil. She started doodling in a margin of notes, first a tree that she could see from the library's window, then a train wagon from the outside, with a little girl sitting in it and watching the scenery. She smiled softly.

*****

"Nope," Grantaire immediately said as she spotted Jehan expectantly looking up at her from the couch. "I have no story to tell, nothing more thant what I told you by text."  
Jehan pouted. "You're not going to make me go back to my Historical Methodology notes, are you? You wouldn't be that cruel?"  
"There. Is. Nothing. To. Say." Grantaire said, pushing at Jehan's forehead with a finger.  
Her friend threw his arms in the air with an air of defeat and went back to his essay. With all the work from morning, Grantaire decided she deserved a break and headed to the bathroom.  
"By the way," Jehan shouted in her direction. "Eponine asked whether you could give Gavroche a lesson next Tuesday!"  
"Sure, no problem!" replied Grantaire, closing the door behind her. She fished out her phone from her jacket and laid it carefully above the sink. She then undressed quickly, leaving her clothes in a pile on the floor.  
The old bathtub was one of the fantasies in Jehan and Grantaire's apartment. It had come with the place, and the paint had been scratched off in a few places, but as she slipped inside and slowly let the water run over her skin, Grantaire couldn't have cared less.  
Grantaire's cellphone started vibrating with a harsh noise, and she pulled herself halfway out of the tub to reach for it. She blinked. Then blinked again. The screen still said that she had a text from Enjolras. She quickly opened it, lying back inside the tub.

Enjolras: Hello. I'm sorry to bother you (?) but I am part of a student group, and we organise meetings every Monday around 6 PM. I know I should have mentioned it eariler, but I was wondering if you would like to come? Your roommate is welcome too. - Enjolras.

Grantaire quickly typed "Hi!!!" before deleting two of the exclamation marks. Jehan was rubbing off on her. She kept typing.

R: Hi! no bother I have nothing to do with my time. Seriously. My life is so sad :( is your little group what you're gonna change the world with? I'll try to be there. And drag Jehan with me for moral support. :D

The water was now fairly high in the tub, probably reaching her fourth finger if she were to stretch her hand in it. She was careful to keep her arms outisde though, not willing to spend money she didn't have on a new phone. She let the hot water rise for a while longer, until her phone announced a new message. She closed the tap and reclined again to answer.

Enjolras: I guess you could say that. We started it to help in an alphabetisation program, but it evolved into more. A kind of social activism group. We try to help, and discuss current issues. If you can't come, or if you're not interested anymore, just give me a warning? I'll send you the address in a second.

Grantaire frowned slightly at Enjolras' description of their meetings, but shrugged to herself. It sounded a bit too idealistic for her, not really her type of scene, but everything was worth a try. Especially if it involved Enjolras. The second that thought had been formulated, she rolled her eyes at herself, wishing she would feel guilty about it.

A minute after the first text, she received an address, and quickly texted back.

R: Nah, sounds good to me. I'll send you a text to confirm, and tell you whether my roommate's coming. Thanks for the address. See you then ;)

She dropped her phone into the pile of clothes, and finally put her arms in the warm water, relishing in the sensation. Her hair normally fell just on her shoulders, but once in the water, as she ran a hand through the curls and straightened them out, they reached her shoulderblades.  
She put some shampoo in her hand, and made quick work of her head, then carefully washed the rest of her body, before falling back into the water with a sigh. She wished she could stay there for days, out of time, out of reach, like some kind of Sleeping Beauty. With a smile, she wondered whether or not Jehan would make a good dragon. The possibility was definitely there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All your faves are queer. That's it. No questions asked.
> 
> I AM SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE!!! I HAVE NO EXCUSES AND I FEEL REALLY BAD ABOUT IT. If you see that I take too long to update again, you can always come rant at me on my personal tumblr (praisethejellyfishes.tumblr.com) or on my fanfic blog (demonsonthemoon.tumblr.com). I will try to keep a steadier rhythm from now on, but I can't promise anything.
> 
> Thanks again for all the support you've given to this fic, in kudos and comments and everything. It's fantastic to see my work so well received.


	4. Chapter 4

"Can you do my liner?" Grantaire asked with her best puppy eyes as Jehan finished his own make-up. He turned around, looked her up and down, and smiled, thumbs up.

Grantaire blushed, feeling kind of silly for having put so much attention to her clothes. Sure, she was going to see Enjolras again, but in a crowded place where ey would be surrounded by friends. Her appearance was probably not going to matter. That, of course, hadn't stopped her from looking through her closet for her skinniest pair of jeans, a bottle green t-shirt with lace sleeves and a black scarf around her neck. She had even tried to styler her hair. That was saying something.

"Sure thing. Come here." Jehan patted the sink to get her to come closer. They had decided early on that installing new lights above their bathroom mirror would cost too much, but that leaving the lighting as it was was too dangerous for their make-up. Hence the desklamp precariously standing on the sink.  
Grantaire closed her eyes as Jehan carefully applied some liquid eyeliner to her eyelids. From day one, she had blessed the enthusiasm her friend had for make-up, because, if she was good enough with a pencil or a paintbrush, applying those skills on herself was a whole new level of awful.  
"Thin wing, or thicker?" Jehan asked.  
"Thin. I'm already not casual enough as it is." Jehan nodded and finished everything off, carefully screwing back the cap. They both had vivid memories of one regrettable incident involving Bossuet and a spilled tube of eyeliner. It had been close to horror-movie worthy.

They left the room together, picking up their jackets on the way out, then headed for the train station. It had been hard to decide whether it would be easier to stay in the city centre after class or add another two train journeys, but since Jehan only had morning classes on Mondays, they had decided to meet up at home.  
Only morning classes on a Monday. Jehan rolled his eyes just thinking about it.

The address Enjolras had given was that of a small café. With a bistrot-like atmosphere, the "Musain" felt welcoming and warm. Enjolras' group meetings were held in a small second room above the main one, which ensured them some privacy. As Grantaire and Jehan climbed up the stairs, having waved hello at the staff, they could already here multiple voices arguing.

"How could you even think that?"  
"Have you heard yourself talk?!"  
"I give up. I give up on you entirely."

Jehan and Grantaire exchanged a worried look, then opened the door.

"Brownies have ten times as much chocolate as cookies, of course they're better!"  
"Are you kidding me? Cookies are so good because they have the perfect balance between chocolate and biscuits! Besides, brownies are just glorified chocolate cakes."  
A young woman with sandy brown hair clutched at her chest and let herself fall on a table, as another girl with short fushia hair rolled her eyes.  
"You just killed me, Bahorel. How dare you come here and attack my beliefs with such foul words?"  
"Brookies." Jehan declared loudly, immediately catching the attention of everyone in the room. Grantaire tensed up beside him. "Both your thinkings are too limited. Brookies are the best."  
The girl lying on the table stood up and took a step forward. A finger pointed in Jehan's direction, she quickly announced to the room at large: "I like this one."  
Jehan smiled and extended a hand, that the woman quickly shaked. "I'm Jean Prouvaire, call me Jehan. I'm Grantaire's roommate. Enjolras invited us?"  
"Yes, of course, good to meet you both." The young woman said, shaking Grantaire's hand too. "I'm Courfeyrac. Our very own cookie suporter over there," - she threw daggers with her eyes as she said the words - "Is Bahorel." She waved at them with a smile and sticked out her tongue at Courfeyrac.  
There were 6 people in the room, without counting Grantaire and Jehan, and Courfeyrac introduced them all.  
Enjolras was sitting at a table in the far corner and made a small gesture in their direction. Next to em was Combeferre, who seemed to be of the same age, face framed by large glasses and wearing a blue v-neck sweater that brought out the dark color of his skin. Another young man was sitting in front of them. His red hair was almost as bright as the smile he sent their way. Courfeyrac introduced him as Feuilly. The last one, seated near Bahorel, had chestnut hair and an insane amount of freckles, visible from across the room. "I'm Marius," he said, and stood up to shake their hands.  
"This is Grantaire, I'm Jehan."

They had barely finished the introductions that Courfeyrac took Grantaire by the hand, asked her help to move some tables together and lead her to a chair. "We've ordered beer and a jug of water, but if you want something else you can ask downstairs," Feuilly said as everyone sat back down.  
"Fine for me," Grantaire replied with a small smile. She felt nervous. Everything was going so well that she couldn't help but feel nervous about it. Everyone was welcoming, already trying to include them in conversations, but without any ulterior motive behind it. She knew it was stupid to be worried about that, of all things, but it all felt too good to be true.  
The drinks came, stopping all conversations for a while, and Grantaire helped himself to a glass of water. Jehan smiled in her direction, and she looked down at her glass, embarrassed.

"Before we start on what I had in mind," Enjolras started, immediately provoking a change in the atmosphere as everyone's attention was drawn to eir voice. "Does anyone have a particular subject they would like to talk about?" Everyone around the tables shaked their head and Enjolras took a deep breath. "Okay, then. Today I wanted to get opinions on the new taxes that are being discussed by the government. Once again, they will be paid by the working-class, and only benefiting the higher-ups, the one who don't need the money. I've already checked mutltiple forums online, and there are talks of protests being organised but I thought..."  
Grantaire sat back in her chair as she listened. She had been right, Enjolras was exuding idealism and blind hope. Ey explained the subject in details, with additions from Combeferre and Courfeyrac from time to time, then started a small debate with Bahorel on what the best course of action would be. Jehan seemed interested enough, making his own comments from time to time, but Grantaire stayed silent. She was content to watch the flames of passion everyone in the room seemed to share and to keep thoughts that would certainly not be well-received to herself.

 

And then, ruining every plan, Courfeyrac asked. "What about you, Grantaire? What do you think?" The lovely smile she sent her way made it clear that she was trying to make Grantaire feel included and had no idea that she had just made a big mistake.  
"I... I probably shouldn't say anything."  
Enjolras frowned at that. "This is the point of a group meeting, Grantaire, to get opinions from everyone in the group. You can speak freely."  
Grantaire blinked, then sighed. "I warned you all." She took a deep breath, ignoring the worried look Jehan was sending in her direction. "First of all, I'm sorry Enjolras, but I'm not really in your group. This is literally the first time I meet all of you. Then, to answer Courfeyrac's question, what I think is that your little world-saving plans are really pretty in theory, but I don't see how you'll actually be able to change anything. It's great that people are willing to protest against injustice - which I do think this new tax is - but if we're honest with ourselves, it's not gonna change shit." She could feel tension building all around her, but was unable to stop herself now that she had started. "This war has been fought again and again for centuries, and the working-class has always lost. Was it... I think it was two years ago that they passed that new unemployment legislation? It was the exact same thing. Rich people want more money for themselves, and they know the only way to do that is to leave the poor in the dirt. So they do. We couldn't fight it in 2012, we still can't fight it today." She saw Enjolras about to interrupt, anger red on eir face, but stopped em with a gesture of the hand. "I'm not saying you can't try. Do whatever you want. I'm just saying it will fail. Or, if by some sort of miraculous intervention, you do manage to be heard, it will just earn you a small reprieve. In a few months you'll have to start it all over again. The world in which we live is based on laws of dominance, and humans like to think they are more evolved than sheep because we've developed a society in which the symbol of power is not strength but money. It's still the same though. We're just animals who tell themselves they're better because we wear clothes and wave green bits of paper at people in exchange for food."  
There was silence for a while. Grantaire pointedly did not look at Enjolras, taking a long sip of water instead.  
"How can you think like that?" Enjolras said.  
Combeferre laid a hand on eir shoulder, trying to stop em, but ey shrugged him off.  
"How do you even get up in the morning if you think that everything is pointless and that no action is worth the effort?"  
"I just like pissing people off that much." Grantaire dead-panned.  
"But there are things we can change! Things have already changed!"  
"Really Enjolras? You're gonna be the one to go all "Rosa Parks ended racism" on me? I didn't take you for the type."  
"There are still problems with our society, Grantaire, I know that. That's why we fight it. Because every unfair measure we abolish is a person who'll see their existance respected. Because every corrupt government taken down is a people seeing hope. Because every action has a result and we can use this low for the good of everyone."  
The words almost sounded true in Enjolras' voice, and Grantaire desperately wished she could believe them.  
"You talk as if good is universal, but that's just not true. Some of your actions may succeed in the name of a so-called-good, but others will always be there to destroy all you've built in the name of another so-called-good. Life isn't fair, and no amount of activism will change that."  
"But how can you be so sure," yelled Enjolras. "If you haven't even tried?"  
Grantaire smiled. "Oh, believe me. I've tried." She gulped the rest of her water down. "And with that, I think it's time for me to go. Please feel free to erase the last hour from your memory and act as if we had never met, I would understand." She stood up and bowed, a mockery of royalty.  
Jehan stood up too and took her hand as they both walked out. Jehan turned around before she closed the door though, smiling apologetically at the others who were still silent.

 

As soon as the door had been shut, Grantaire sighed in relief and rested her head against Jehan's shoulder. He tightened his grip on her hand in response. They walked in silence to the train station and sat down next to one another.  
"Are you okay?" Jehan asked softly, running a hand through Grantaire's hair.  
She nodded. "I messed up, though. Didn't I? I ruined everything. If there was even something to ruin." She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again. "Why couldn't I just shut up? Why could't I just pretend? Why couldn't I just let myself have something good?"  
"Hey." Jehan put both his hands on her face, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "It's okay. You're okay."  
"I know. I just sometimes wish I could be more than that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for your support. This fic seems to be gaining readers with each chapter and it makes me incredibly happy that you would deem it worth your time.


	5. Chapter 5

Grantaire climbed inside the train with her guitar case on her back and a headache. She sat down in the first seat she could find, determined on trying to get in some more sleep before her stop.  
Her whole night had been haunted by memories of the previous evening, and she cringed just thinking of it. Why had she done that? Why hadn't she just shut up? It shouldn't have been that hard. The disappointment she had read on Enjolras' face felt like a dagger in her chest. But well. It was done. At least this whole story hadn't lasted long enough for her to really hope.  
Her head was resting against the glass, which is why she had to stifle a shout of pain when the train suddenly stopped and she hit the window forcefully. She winced, rubbing her forehead. The few people around her were looking as confused as she felt. Then an announcement made itself heard.  
"Due to an accident further on the track, this train will be temporarily unable to move. Please accept our most sincere apologies as we work to clear the path as quickly as possible."  
A collective groan errupted from the passengers, which Grantaire joined happily. At first, people stayed where they were seated. The car they were in contained a total of eight people. Two businesspeople recognisable to their formal wear, two highschool girls chatting together, a woman that was probably on her way to work too, a young man that was either a college student or a young worker, a lonely highschooler reading near a window and Grantaire herself. Despite the two girls' enthusiastic voices - who doesn't dream of missing their PE class? - the atsmosphere felt too calm, oppressing. Grantaire was enjoying the opportunity to just watch other people, but restlessness was slowly spreading in the air.  
The woman who wasn't dressed formally caught her eye and smiled in her direction. Her eyes then widened as she seemed to realise something. Unconsciously, Grantaire tried to make herself smaller, but the woman only smiled wider as she reached her.  
"Can you play the guitar?" she asked, pointing at the case that Grantaire had brought.  
Grantaire gaped for a second, then quickly nodded.  
"I know this might seem like a silly idea, but since we're stuck here for a while I thought... Maybe you could play a little? For all of us?"  
Grantaire nodded again, before she could help herself. Then the words caught up with her. She was terrified. Still, the woman's enthusiasm was contagious and she couldn't bring herself to disappoint this lady. Her bright clothes and long dark hair made her easy to trust, like she was some kind of silly aunt to every person she met on the streets.  
Grantaire opened her case and took out her acoustic guitar. She'd had it for years now, one of the few things she had kept since leaving highschool. She wouldn't have said that she was an incredible musician, but she played well enough to keep a good-natured audience satisfied, if it came to that. Or so seemed to think her friend Eponine and her little brother, since Grantaire had been giving Gavroche irregular lessons for about a year.  
As she awkwardly found a way to sit and handle her guitar at the same time in the narrow space of the train, the other passengers seemed to realise that something was going on and gathered around her.  
"Is there something in particular you want me to play?" Grantaire asked, to the room at large, but mostly to the woman who had come to her in the first place.  
She shaked her head. "I don't know. I'll try to think of something, but for now... just play whatever you want."  
Grantaire bit her lips, unsure. She wasn't a big fan of singing in public, mostly because her voice made her self-conscious.  
Then she had a thought. She almost laughed, but stopped herself and took out her capo. As she started on the intro riff, people started politely nodding along to the music, not recognising the song.

"All dressed up and nowhere to go,  
Walking the streets all alone."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the businessman frown, while the two teenage girls turned to each other, seemingly confused. She blocked them out and continued playing.

"Another night to wish you could forget,  
Making yourself up as you go along."

The older woman was still nodding in rhythm, with an encouraging smile. Grantaire jumped into the chorus, holding onto the familiar words and chords like a life-line.

"Who's gonna take you home tonight?  
Who's gonna take you home?  
Who's gonna take you home tonight?  
Who's gonna take you home?

Does god bless your transsexual heart?  
True Trans Soul Rebel."

Once the first chorus had gone by, it was easier to just get lost in the song and forget about her audience. She almost didn't realise holding the last note and playing the last chord, but then people started clapping with, it seemed, genuine enthusiasm. She looked up and smiled, for once actually wishing for her hair to be long enough to cover her eyes. A blush crept up her cheeks.  
"Thank you. That was True Trans Soul Rebel by Against Me!" She scratched at her neck, still smiling. "Do you want me to play something else?"  
"Do you know how to play Don't You Worry Child?" asked one of the teenage girls. "By Swedish House Mafia?"  
"Huh... I remember learning it, I might mess up a bit though."  
Grantaire took a few seconds to remember the chords, then started on the intro.

"There was a time,  
I used to look into my father's eyes...  
In a happy home  
I was a king I had a golden throne."

She had to try twice before finding the right chord after the key change, but people just laughed as she apologised sheepishly. The girl that had requested the song, all long blond hair and fashionable clothes, seemed to be annoying her friend about one thing or another.

"Those days are gone  
Now the memory's on the wall.  
I hear the songs  
From the places where I was born."

The two girls stopped bickering as he reached the bridge, and suddenly another voice joined Grantaire's.

"Upon a hill across the blue lake,  
That's where I had my first heartbreak.  
I still remember how it all changed...

My father said"

It was the second girl, a brunette, who had joined in. She had obviously practiced with that song, and was perfectly on-key. As the reached the chorus, Grantaire let her sing the main voice, only bothering with backing vocals and easy harmonies. The first girl grinned madly and started dancing where she was standing.  
They reached the end of the song under enough applause to cover the fact that Grantaire had messed up the last chord.  
"Thank you so much!" The blonde girl said as her friend blushed under the compliments of the woman who had first approached Grantaire. The highschool boy was now also sitting close to the group, watching with amusement.  
Another announcement came on the speakers, stating that progress had been made as to the clearing of the track, but that they would still have to wait a little while. The harsh voice surprised everyone at first, but they quickly dismissed it, asking for more songs.

She ended up playing a mix of modern songs - including some One Direction that she had learned to play to annoy Eponine - and classics, after someone asked for The Eagles' Hotel California. A few other people trickled in from other cars, having heard the music and singing voices. She was in the middle of a cover of Hallelujah when, raising her head, she almost stopped playing from shock.

Enjolras was standing there - of course ey was, since Grantaire's life was turning into some weird tale for teenage girls - listening to her play with a smile on eir lips. Grantaire immediately looked back down at her hands, somehow managing not to mess up even if her voice cracked slightly.  
She went on to play Passenger's Let Her Go, once again joined by the brown-haired girl, and a few other people on the chorus. It was unanimously decided that they had to play at least one French song, and settled on Gérald d Palmas' Une Seule Vie, to which almost everyone sang. Halfway though the last chorus, they were interrupted by the speakers announcing that the train would be able to start again in 5 minutes, and that they were once again apologizing for any problem caused.  
Everyone still finished the song, then thanked Grantaire as they all went back to their seats. Enjolras stayed standing near the door, carefully puttinge emself out of the way until everyone was either gone or sitting. Then ey slowly approached Grantaire, who was packing up her guitar, blush high on her cheeks.  
"I didn't know you could play."  
Grantaire laughed. It started as something between a snicker and giggles, but quickly grew, almost to the point of hysteria. Enjolras' smile crumbled.  
Grantaire put out a hand, still laughing slightly but trying to get back her breath. "Sorry. I'm so sorry. That was rude but... Enjolras." She almost started laughing again, but stopped herself and swallowed slowly. "We met less than a week ago. Officially, at least. We had one discussion in a train, and then spent an hour shouting at each other. Of course you wouldn't know everything about me."  
They were both back to seriousness, and Grantaire ran a hand through her hair. Some people were looking at them worriedly, but politely averted their eyes when they crossed Enjolras' gaze.  
"I'm sorry about what happened last night." Enjolras said.  
"Would you change any of what you said?" Grantaire's eyes were challenging, but Enjolras' held her gaze without blinking.  
"No," ey answered.  
"Then, apology accepted. Although it doesn't change a thing. It's accepted."  
They watched each other in silenc for a while, and the train finally started moving again. They both stumbled from the sudden motion, Grantaire grabbing Enjolras' shoulder to keep from falling and risking her guitar.  
"That's fair." Enjolras finally said, with a definiteness that seemed to mean the conversation was over. However, ey started again. "I would still like to talk to you again. My friends too. I know yesterday didn't go well but... Maybe you and Jehan could hang out with us, sometime?"  
"Why are you still trying - no. Better question. What are you still trying to do?"  
Enjolras looked down at eir feet. "I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing. Trying new things, I guess. Maybe trying to do something for myself, for once?"  
Grantaire cocked her head, urging em on with one hand. Enjolras sat down on one of the train's seats, and Grantaire took the one on the other side.  
"I genuinely liked talking with you, that time int the train. I did. And... Even if we didn't agree yesterday, I could still see that you had a reasoning behind your thoughts, that you were obviously interested, since you were quoting facts. I guess... I want to try and understand you. Understand your point of view. Maybe. I'm not sure. I don't know."  
"The mighty god kneeling in front of a puny human, thoughts slipping, words jumbling. What a sight it is indeed."  
"Don't mock me," said Enjolras, voice cutting with anger.  
"I'm not mocking you," replied Grantaire, trying her best to appear soothing. "I'm just saying it doesn't suit you."  
Enjolras huffed, running a hand through eir hair. It was the first time Grantaire saw em do that, and the gesture was hypnotising. Enjolras' hair was way longer than Grantaire's and light seemed to be trapped between the golden locks. It flew free as Enjolras pushed eir hair back behind eir shoulder.  
"Does that mean you're willing to try again? At maybe being my... friend?" Ey hesitated on the words, as if they didn't feel natural in eir mouth. Ey certainly didn't seem used to talking about this kind of things.  
Under Enjolras' gaze, Grantaire took time to think about the question. She knew what she wanted to do. Say yes, jump, close her eyes and pray for the best. She also knew the exact date she had stopped believing in God, and that was more than 6 years ago. She wanted to hear more of Enjolras, to see more of em, to feel more of that passion that had emanated from em the day before. Even when they had been fighting, Enjolras' hope and vision had felt like hydromel pouring down her throat. She knew that the mere fact this was the first comparison that popped into her brain was a bad sign. And still she wanted more.  
She sighed. "Against my better judgement... I guess I do. Want to try again."  
Enjolras smiled, and she shily smiled back. She was doomed. There was no way she would survive this whole thing. The fact that they weren't used to each other showed. With Jehan, she could stay silent for hours and it would feel natural, but with Enjolras it was growing more and more awkward by the minute.  
"So... Guitar, huh? When did you learn to play?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for the support.
> 
> You can guess from this self-indulgent chapter that I love writing about music. I can play a tiny bit of guitar myself, but I mostly play the piano.
> 
> If you think Enjolras was acting strange, kind of out-of-characterly, in this chapter... it was meant to be that way. I tried my best at portraying em totally out of eir depth in this chapter, and I really hope you got the point?
> 
> Anyway... See you (normally next week) for the chapter 6!


	6. Chapter 6

”You’re losing the tempo again. Keep the same rhythm with your hand, even when you don’t touch any string.”  
"I know. I know! It’s just hard."  
"This is music, Gavroche, it’s not supposed to be easy."  
"And my teacher is my sister’s friend, not some kind of yoga master. Cut off the crap."  
Grantaire laughed at the daggers the boys’ eyes were throwing her way. “Only if my pupil stops with his stinky vocabulary.”  
Gavroche stuck out his tongue at her, which made her laugh, especially when he also tried to punch her in the arm but found it impossible because of the guitar sitting on his leg.  
Both of them jumped as they heard the front door of the apartment close loudly. A few seconds later, Gavroche’s sister entered the room.  
"Hi, ‘Ponine!" said Grantaire with a wave.  
"Hello stranger," replied Eponine, walking across the room to give her a kiss on each cheek, ruffling Gavroche’s hair on the way. "I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve seen each other in a month. The fact that I had to lure you in by using Gavroche doesn’t say anything good about you, you know."  
"I missed you too."  
Eponine ran a hand through her long brown hair and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You wish,” she muttered, only barely loud enough for her friend to hear. She sat down next to Grantaire, asking her little brother to show her what he could do on the guitar.

While they listened to the teenager play, Grantaire took the time to consider Eponine’s words. It was true that she had neglected her friend in the past few weeks. She had neglected most of her friends, actually, but was only now noticing how Jehan had had to forcibly drag her to every of their last night outs.  
Silently observing Eponine’s profile as she listened to the music, Grantaire found that she has missed her deeply. Immerging herself in schoolwork was a good way to stop thinking, but once she was confronted to her own mind, her doubts and wishes bubbled to the surface again. She didn’t feel afraid right now, though. She felt calm, warm, only taken by a nostalgic kind of longing.  
Eponine often made her feel that way. The two had dated, prior to Grantaire’s transition. She was the one who had broken things off, at the time feeling like her frequent bouts of depression would only burden Eponine’s already difficult life. The other girl had taken it well enough, mostly concerned with Grantaire’s well-being. Things had been a little awkward for a while, with neither of them really knowing where the lines were between them, but they had managed to keep on being close friends with each other. Grantaire had met Jehan a little before the end of her relationship with Eponine, which at one point lead to Eponine being jealous of the boy, thinking that there was something between them. Jehan had seemed to find it hilarious when Eponine told him that story a few years later.  
It was nice, knowing that things were still similar - if not quite the same - between them, knowing that here was another place she could go to in times of trouble.

"You okay?" Eponine asked, looking up at Grantaire from her place on the other girl’s shoulder. "You seemed totally spaced out."  
Grantaire smiled. “I was. But I’m fine.” Eponine raised an eyebrow. “I swear!” added Grantaire holding her hands up. “Who are you, my psychiatrist?”  
"I’m your friend, dumbass," said Eponine, punctuating her reply with a punch in Grantaire’s arm.  
A dramatic sigh made itself heard and both of them turned towards Gavroche.  
"Since you seem to be both set on ignoring me from now on…" started the younger boy. "Could you at least, you know, get out of my room?"  
Eponine and Grantaire both laughed at that, and Gavroched rolled his eyes at them. He huffed in annoyance as Eponine once again ruffled his hair as she walked past him, but didn’t protest much more.

*****

"Now tell me what’s on your mind," said Eponine, softly blowing on the mug of hot chocolate in her hands. "I’m worried about you."  
"I swear I’m fine, ‘ponine. I know I neglected you for a while, but I’ve just been busy with school."  
"I wasn’t talking about that. You already explained, it’s okay. But there’s something on your mind today, right now, something more precise.”  
Grantaire looked down, and took a slow gulp from her own cup of chocolate. The liquid nearly burned her throat, but it was a welcome sensation.  
"You’re right. Something happened. I guess. I met someone."  
Eponine raised an eyebrow, putting down her mug to lean against the kitchen counter as if preparing herself for a good story.  
"No, there’s no… Nothing happened between us like that. Just…” She took a deep breath and put a hand to her forehead to ease the headache she could feel coming. This conversation was utterly ridiculous, even more than Jehan’s never-ending questioning sessions. “I met em on a train - oh yeah, ey’s agender, hence the neutral pronouns. I met em on a train, which is already a pretty stupid situation, and ended up making a drawing of eir face, and then I saw em again when I fell asleep on my way back from school like the stupid person that I am, and then I met em a third time and we talked and I got eir number.”  
"Ooookay." Eponine frowned and gulped down some more chocolate. "So far so good, I don’t really see why you’re not jumping around with excitment since you obviously seem to like em."  
Grantaire looked down and blushed, which only made Eponine snicker. “I don’t like em! I barely even know em!” She started playing with her feet. “I guess I’m just… interested in em.”  
The other girl raised her eyebrows once more.  
"Stop it, ‘ponine, you’re gonna get stuck with that expression on your face."  
"Not sure it would be such a bad thing."  
"Really? Try to flirt with someone with eyebrows permanently raised to your hairline." For good measure, Grantaire raised her own, trying for some kind of impression of her friend.  
Eponine pulled a disgusted face. “Please, never do that again. For the sake of Gavroche. You’re giving me nightmares and I don’t want to have to leave him alone to go to an asylum.”  
Grantaire laughed too and put her mug in the sink. Eponine watched her movements slowly and then asked again. “Now tell me what’s really on your mind.”  
"Eponine!"  
"The more quickly you spit it out, the more quickly I’ll leave it alone!"  
Grantaire bit her lips and ran a hand through her curls, a gesture that Eponine had long known meant that she was nervous.  
"We… kind of had a fight? Like… nearly screaming and stuff?" With a sigh, she added: "About politics, of all things."  
Eponine nodded, urging her on with one hand.  
"I seriously thought we were never gonna talk to each other again - that was yesterday by the way - but I was playing some guitar on the train - long story - and suddenly ey was there and we talked and ey seemed to actually want me to hang out with em and eir friends some more?" She once again ran her fingers through her hair, wincing as some of them got stuck in her thick curls. "I’m just really confused right now. And I keep meeting em at unexpected times, which is really weird." Grantaire noticed a weird light growing in Eponine’s eyes and put a hand in front of the other girl’s mouth before she could say anything. "If you say one word about fairy-tales, fate or romance novels, I’ll attach your arms to Jehan, kill you both and throw you in a river."  
Eponine pouted. “You wouldn’t be so cruel. I deserve a valiant death, not to be thrown in water with some brat.”  
They both laughed. Eponine petted her friend’s head with one hand as she made for the sink to clean their cups.  
"I’m glad you told me. I don’t really know how to deal with these situations either, you know me, but you shouldn’t let it eat away at you. You want to see em again? Do it. There’ll still be time afterwards to cut all bridges and burn all the memories."  
"Wow, thank you Eponine for your optimistic views!"  
The brown-haired girl punched her in the shoulder. “Shut up, you’re one to talk!”

*****

"So you guys made up?"  
Grantaire stopped suddenly on her way to the kitchen and stared at Jehan. “I usually don’t understand half of what’s coming out of your mouth, but this time I don’t understand anything.”  
Jehan took the time to move his laptop onto his knees, then sit up from where he was lying on the couch before he finally rolled his eyes at his friend. “You and Enjolras. You made up, right?”  
"How would you even know that."  
"I’m psychic," Jehan said, taking his phone out of his pocket. "That, and Courfeyrac told me."  
"Courfeyrac… That’s… The girl with brown hair, right?"  
"Yup!" Jehan said, flopping back down on the couch. "She gave me everyone’s number. She’s pretty chill. I actually apologized to her after your whole fiery debate with Enjolras, and a few hours ago she told me that I shouldn’t have worried, in the end, because you guys had made up. That’s true, right?" He looked at Grantaire expectantly.  
The young woman scratched at her neck, tilting her head slightly. “Kindaaaa? I’m not really sure where I stand with Enjolras, because every of our interactions just seems so weird. But ey apologized? And ask that I hang out with em some more. So yeah. I guess we made up.”  
Jehan put his laptop on the ground and stood up. He walked silently until he was only a few centimetres away from Grantaire. Poking her forehead, he started talking again. “I don’t understand you. You spent days moaning over eir face, goddamnit, why aren’t you jumping around in excitment right now?”  
Grantaire looked away. “I don’t know, okay? I just… don’t want to assume anything and have it blow up in my face afterwards. I don’t know anything about Enjolras. We both let our imaginations run away with us after I saw em again, but that has got to stop. It’s just not possible in the long run. I don’t know where this is going, you don’t know either, and after yesterday, I’m starting to think that the chances of everything going really really badly is very high.”  
Grantaire stopped herself as she unexpectedly felt Jehan’s arms tightening around her. They were of fairly the same height, but her boots had small heels which made it possible for her to rest her chin on the boy’s shoulder.  
Jehan tightened their embrace for a few more seconds, then looked up. “You’re becoming too wise.” He climbed on his tiptoes to quickly kiss Grantaire’s forehead.  
"Too wise? I feel more foolish than ever."  
Jehan shaked his head. “You aren’t foolish. Just a little lost, maybe. And I’m glad you and Enjolras are back on talking terms.”  
"Yeah… Me too."  
Jehan took a step back. He tilted his head to the right and started batting his eyelashes. “Does that mean I can tell Courfeyrac that we’re going to his party?”  
"What?!" It was her turn to take a step back, hand extended as if to hide Jehan’s puppy eyes from her view. "What party? Why did you say we? Why is Courfeyrac inviting us to a party?!”  
"Because she’s nice?” Jehan took a few step forward to put his hands on Grantaire’s arms and calm her down. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. She told me I could bring a few friends, so I thought I might ask Bossuet and Joly too? Maybe Eponine if she doesn’t have to work? It won’t be a big thing, just a few friends at her place?” He put a hand against his friend’s cheek. “Just consider it, okay? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”  
Grantaire nodded. “Yeah, okay.”  
"But Enjolras will be there!" Jehan added with a smile. All he got in return was a slap from Grantaire, who then made her way to the kitchen, grumbling.  
He laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry for the delay on this chapter, I left for Barcelona on Friday (and am still there right now) which meant I didn't really have the time to work on fics.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for all the support, I really hope you liked this chapter and will continue to like this fic!
> 
> (I might add a tag for past!Eponine/Grantaire in the relationship tags, but not until next chapter is posted so it doesn't spoil the people following this fic.)


	7. Chapter 7

As Grantaire moved up the stairs, careful not to let the dish in her hands slip, she winced. She could already hear music, loudly. She wondered what kind of people Courfeyrac's neighbours were. If they had to put up with the girl's parties regularly, she guessed either absent or deaf. She stopped as she reached the second floor, letting Jehan take the lead to knock on the door that belonged to Courfeyrac. The host herself came to open the door, letting even louder music come through. She smiled wildly at both Grantaire and Jehan, kissing them on each cheeks.  
"You're here! And the dessert too!" She immediately took the plate of brookie Jehan had made from Grantaire's hand.  
"Now, are you smiling because you're happy to see us," said Jehan. "Or because you were hungry?"  
Courfeyrac, who had turned around to lead them into her apartment, faced them again and tilted her head. "Can't it be both? You did tell me that yours was the best brookie in town."  
"That I did," replied Jehan easily.  
"And he wasn't lying," added Grantaire.

Courfeyrac's apartment wasn't small, although it wasn't gigantic either. Grantaire thought that, if not for the dozen of people packed into it, it would be a really nice place to stay in.  
"You're able to pay for a place this nice by yourself?" Grantaire asked, surprised. The flat she shared with Jehan was far from being horrible, but the rent was already high for them, and it was way outside the city centre, compared to this one.  
"I'm sharing with Marius." She started explaining. "I actually met him because I wanted a roommate and he had just gotten kicked out of his grandfather's house. Plus, my parents are chipping in on the rent, so it's easier." She put the dish on a table already covered by snacks and drinks, then handed them a cup each. "Help yourself to whatever you want, I've got to check on the pizza I put in the oven."  
"Thanks!" said Jehan. He poured himself a drink as Grantaire peered at some labels to find a light beer.  
Both leaning against the table, they took the time to observe the room. The few pieces of furniture that had supposedly decorated the living room had been pushed back to the side, and Grantaire could see a television set turned towards the wall to avoid any damage. She was relieved to see that she had already met most of the people present.  
Standing near the television was Bahorel, deep in conversation with another girl who - judging by the peck on the lips she gave Bahorel - was probably her girlfriend. Combeferre was sitting on an old sofa, talking to someone she didn't know. The boy she remembered as being Marius was on the other side of the room, standing awkwardly between Enjolras and eir ginger friend whose name eluded Grantaire. The two were talking animatedly about something or another. A group of three other strangers were dancing in the middle of the room.  
Combeferre saved both Grantaire and Jehan the trouble of deciding which conversation to join by standing up and walking towards them. "Hey! I'm glad you could make it." They had to talk loudly to be heard over the Britney Spears pouring from the speakers, but it didn't take the edge off Combeferre's (seemingly) genuine enthusiasm. He turned towards Grantaire. "I'm really sorry for what happened with Enjolras. Ey can be... driven sometimes."  
"You tell me?" Grantaire replied, shooting a glance towards where Enjolras was arguing with wide gestures of eir arms.  
Combeferre laughed at that. "I will accept to be blamed for failing to discourage em, but really that's just how ey works. Ey didn't mean to hurt you. And ey was never truly mad at you."  
Grantaire looked down, embarrassed at how comforting Combeferre's words were.  
Once again, she was saved, this time by Jehan who took her hand in his own and marched towards the couch Combeferre had deserted.  
"Now, enough talking about that, the past is the past and we're here tonight to have some fun! So why don't you introduce us to your friend, Combeferre?"

*****

Grantaire's head felt fuzzy. The music was still loud, the room still felt crowded, and the bottle of beer in her hand felt even heavier than when it had been full. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing on Jehan's voice to her right, where he was engrossed in a conversation with Bahorel about some weird American show or something. Grantaire had stopped following when glowing clouds had been mentioned.  
She recoiled slightly in surprise as she felt the weight of someone else settling on the couch.  
She opened her eyes in just the right way to stare at Enjolras' blue ones.  
"Hi," ey said, voice nearly timid.  
Grantaire smiled despite herself, headache still pounding behind her eyes but somehow more bearable. She felt like it was too bright for it to be night, and frowned at the thought. Nobody had turned on any additional light.  
"Hey," she replied.  
Enjolras deemed her answer enough to sit fully on the couch, in the near-sprawl that was impossible to avoid on these old cushions.  
"Are you okay?"  
Grantaire nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just... tired, I guess. And thirsty." She bit her tongue.  
"Want me to get you something to drink?"  
"Water. Water would be nice."  
She felt a slight tinge of guilt as Enjolras got up again and walked to what Grantaire guessed was the kitchen, coming back a minute later with two glasses in eir hands.  
"You don't drink?" she asked as she noticed that both glasses were filled with water.  
Enjolras shrugged, giving her one. Ey took a sip of his own glass before answering. "I do, socially. But I don't mind water."  
Ey didn't say anything else, and for that Grantaire was grateful. Grateful, and surprised. Maybe even a bit irritated at how hard to read Enjolras was. She sighed, breaking the awkward silence.  
"I don't. Drink, I mean. Not more than two beers a night. I stopped." Once again, Enjolras didn't say anything. Ey was listening though, that much was obvious from the way eir eyes were solely focused on her. Grantaire guessed it was eir way of letting her be in control of the conversation, letting her choose what she wanted to reveal and what was too personal. It would have been charming, if Grantaire wasn't so desperate for the possibility of letting go. Answering questions was easy. She didn't have to try to put things in order on her own if she was asked questions. Here though, her ideas were swirling in a mess of jumbled words.  
"I used to drink a lot. It got out of hand. I stopped."  
"It's fine." Enjolras is looking at her with calm eyes and she blushes for no reason. "Do you wanna go outside for a while? The music is loud in here."  
Grantaire immediately nodded, maybe even too quickly.  
They waded through the crowded living-room and finally started climbing down the stairs, which is when Grantaire realised that she had definitely accepted too quickly. They were on the second floor, for God's sake!  
It didn't seem to bother Enjolras though. As soon as the front door was opened, ey took a deep breath of fresh air and turned back towards Grantaire. "There's a public bench a few metres down the street. Maybe we could sit there?"  
Once again, Grantaire nodded and let em lead the way. The bench seemed old and rusty, and the coldness of the metal seeped through Grantaire's clothes as she sat down, but it was comfortable.  
There was silence for a few seconds.  
"It can be a bit much, huh?"  
Grantaire blinked, then stared at Enjolras in confusion.  
Ey smiled. "The people I mean. Parties. You can't hear yourself think in there."  
"Sometimes it's a good thing."  
Enjolras dropped his gaze, thinking about it. Looking at em like that, so focused on eir own thoughts, Grantaire wished she could see the inside of eir skull. She wished she could see the gears turn in eir head and maybe understand the logic behind their movements.  
"I guess so. I'm not sure. Aren't our thoughts the only things that make us who we are?"  
"I think, therefore I am?" Grantaire laughed. "Sounds echo even when you don't hear them. Your thoughts are there even if you don't listen. And sometimes it feels good to just be..." She made a vague gesture of hands, looking for the right word.  
"Empty?" Enjolras supplied, looking uneasy.  
Grantaire hummed. "More like... void. Not just to be you with an emptiness inside, but to be the emptiness. To be the void."  
"It's kind of sad."  
"You think so?" There was a pause in the conversation, enough for an angel to fall. "It's not sad, being nothing. It's just... nothing."  
"But isn't it sad to feel like you need to stop existing?" Enjolras replied, so earnestly that it made Grantaire's heart ache.  
"It's just a break though. A silence in a conversation. Everyone has those. Some do sports, or sing. Some drink. Some go to parties. Everyone has a way to just stop having to deal with themself for a while." She looked up at the sky. "Jehan used to be in a drama club. He always told me that the best thing about theatre is that you actually get to be another person, for a few hours. It's the same thing."  
"I don't understand you," ey said, and when Grantaire looked down ey was turned towards her, frowning.  
"No shit."  
Enjolras' frowned deepened.  
"Most days I don't understand myself either. But hey..." Grantaire shrugged, arms open. "I don't understand how toothpaste is made, and I can still use it!"  
Enjolras smiled slightly. "Did you just compare yourself to toothpaste?"  
She nodded. "You know what? I think I did."  
They both laughed at that. Another bout of silence stretched between them, this time comfortable. Grantaire was starting to shiver. She hadn't thought of picking up her jacket when Enjolras had taken her downstairs, and the night air was seeping through the stitches of her cardigan.  
"Are you cold?" Enjolras asked, emself wrapped in a light grey turtleneck sweater under eir red leather jacket. "We should probably get back inside." Ey gestured at Courfeyrac's flat, a few meters away.  
Grantaire followed eir fingers with her eyes, to the illuminated windows marking out the party. She could imagine the sounds of music and laughter drifting from it. "No. I'm good. Do you mind though?" She took out a cigarette and a lighter from her jeans pocket. Enjolras shaked eir head. "Want one?"  
"No, I don't smoke."  
"Okay." She lighted her cigarette and took a slow drag. "I probably shouldn't have come, you know. To this party. Alcohol everywhere and people I don't know. I probably shouldn't have come."  
"Do you regret it?"  
"I don't know." The dark-haired girl was careful to blow the smoke away from Enjolras' face, which ey seemed to appreciate even though it made eye-contact more difficult to achieve.  
"Why did you come?" asked Enjolras. Eir voice was soft and rich, so different from the tone ey used to talk publicly, and yet somehow similar. It was like trying to explain the difference between the flame of a candle and that of a sacrificial pyre.  
"Jehan asked," came Grantaire's answer. "Plus, he made the best brookie in town just for this occasion."  
A smile was tugging at her lips and Enjolras let out a small laugh.  
"You're missing it, though."  
Grantaire shrugged. "I can always guilt him into making me a new one. You're the one missing a one-time chance."  
"I hope it won't be one-time."  
Grantaire fell silent, not knowing what to say. She didn't know where she was standing. Metaphorically. The young woman was painfully aware of being seated next to Enjolras, whose long blond hair seemed so soft to touch. What she didn't know was why she would even want to touch eir hair, or why she was sitting here, or why she felt so literally attracted to Enjolras. She couldn't rationalise it as a physical thing anymore. There was more to it than that. There was the way eir eyes seemed to glow when ey was passionate about a subject, there was the way ey visibly made effort not to talk about politics in front of Grantaire anymore. There was the way ey could stay silent for so long, and then speak until everybody else was left breathless. There was the way ey kept and kept trying. There was the deep admiration growing in Grantaire's chest, like a parasite eating her insides. There were all the ways in which both of them seemed so different, and the ways their paths seemed to keep crossing. "As if under the hand of Fate," Jehan had said.  
"I'm a 24 year-old trans girl repudiated by her family, living with her best friend in an old flat on the far outskirts of town, taking art classes in the hope of maybe becoming an illustrator and I'm trying to get rid of a drinking habit. Also, I had a cat named Daisy who got poisoned by a neighbour." She dropped the remnants of her cigarette on the floor and flattened it with her shoe. "So, what's your story?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you so much for the support! Every kudo left on this fic makes my life better. <3


	8. Chapter 8

"I went to highschool like everyone else. My parents are rich, still married to each other, and even if I wouldn't call my family life healthy, I've never had to deal with much." Enjolra's voice was uncertain as ey started talking, but it got firmer as the story went on.  
"They don't really like what I've done with my life, don't really understand, but I was never kicked out, and they'll still send me money if I ever need it. I know how stupid I sound right now, but it's true I've lived a life of privilege." Ey sighed, hand brushing the side of eir head where the hair was the shortest.  
"Still, it didn't feel right to me. I was used to having too much to eat at every meal, but my parents would pull on my hand to have me look away from beggars in the street. I wanted to do something against that. I guess I always was kind of passionate. I've known Combeferre since before we started highschool, and he would let me talk about all my ideas, telling me when I was taking shortcuts or ignoring parts of problems." Ey laughed softly.  
Grantaire was entranced by that sound, so carefree it felt like it didn't belong in Enjolras' mouth. Enjolras' diction was precise, his words carefully selected. There were no "hum"s or "and, well..."s in eir speech, which made this small chuckle stand out unnaturally.  
"We met Courfeyrac in our second year of highschool and immediately became close friends." There was a pause. "I don't really know what you want to hear. I graduated from highschool, started university. Combeferre, Courfeyrac and I founded the ABC to help with a reading project across the city, and ended up continuing it afterwards. That's my story."  
Enjolras could have talked about how ey had met Courfeyrac when she'd been crying in the toilets and ey had waited for her to come out. Ey could have talked about how eir "family life" actually consisted of heavy silence, since every conversation ey'd had with eir parents since eir third year of highschool had ended up in a shouting match. Ey could have talked about the nights spent unmoving in eir bed, head pounding and eyes red because ey just couldn't figure out how ey even felt about emself. There were loads of things ey could have talked about, but none of them really mattered anymore. None of them made em who ey was. None of them were any of Grantaire's business.

"That was one fucking hell of a boring story," said Grantaire, one eyebrow raised.  
Enjolras just raised eir own eyebrows in return, which made her laugh.  
"I'm serious! The only moment when you weren't vague as hell was when talking about politics!"  
"How does that make it a boring story?"  
"... Politics, Enjolras. I was asking for your life-story. Not the reason you're running for president next year."  
That made Enjolras wince.  
"You're not running for president next year, are you?"  
"No!"  
Grantaire laughed, but Enjolras didn't seem so inclined. Eir lips were pursed. Grantaire rolled her eyes with a sigh.  
"What did I say wrong, this time?"  
"You..." Enjolras seemed taken aback by the question.  
"Come on, spit it out. You look like you've bitten into chicory." She stopped herself to assess the youg person next to her. "Although, knowing you, you probably like chicory."  
Enjolras let out a puff of breath. "Could you stay consistent for at least one minute?" Grantaire shrugged, which made em continue. "I've never tried chicory, so I don't know if I like it or not. And you didn't say anything wrong. It's just... I would like it if you stopped making fun of me."  
"Making fun of you." Grantaire's sentence had managed to sound both like a question and an affirmation.  
"Yes, that's what I said." Enjolras was pointedly looking down at eir feet. Grantaire would almost have said that eir pride had been hurt.  
"When was I making fun you?"  
Enjolras sighed and rolled eir eyes. "When are you not?" Eir voice was cutting with exasperation, which made Grantaire silently move a bit towards the edge of the bench.  
"I'm serious, Enjolras."  
"No, you're not. That's the thing!" Ey was raising eir voice, which made Grantaire flinch, but ey didn't seem to notice. "You're not serious about anything! You're not serious about politics, you're not serious about your life..."  
Grantaire wanted to stop em, stop em at all cost and tell em... Tell em that she was serious about em. Tell em that she had always been serious about em. She couldn't, though. Something - everything - was stopping her, and she just sat there, shame and rage mixing and growing inside her.  
"You're not even serious about your friends."  
Grantaire stood up. "Stop it." Her eyes were fixed to the ground and she bit the inside of her lips to hold back tears. "STOP IT!" She was shouting now. For this one second, she felt grateful for Courfeyrac's loud music. "You have no right to say anything about me or my friends, you self-righteous dick. You have no right to judge me, my interests or lack thereof. You don't have a single right over me."  
Enjolras stood up too. Ey was ready to reply in an equally as fuming tone, but Grantaire didn't give em the chance.  
"You want serious? Serious is me changing schools because of bullying. Serious is Jehan running away from home on his eighteenth birthday and only telling me a week later. Serious is one of my closest friend having to raise her little brother virtually on her own because her parents didn't care."  
Enjolras extended a hand in a placating gesture, but Grantaire ignored it.  
"Are you sure you want serious, Enjolras? Because I could go on like this. I could tell you about depression, about being held back a grade because every other morning used to be a hangover. Except I won't. Because I respect you. I respect you enough not to use you as a punching bag and dump all my problems on you in the hope it will give me some kind of relief. I respect you enough to know that we haven't known each other long enough for you to deal with my shit. So while you busy yourself getting the stick out of your oh-so-mighty ass, I'm gonna go get my jacket and purse and leave. Thank you very much for the night."  
She turned away and didn't look back, leaving Enjolras dejected and alone in the cold night. Entering the apartment, she half-smiled at Jehan who was dancing whole-heartedly with Courfeyrac. She then quickly dashed for the table she had left her handbag and jacket on, slipping into the latter. Just as quickly as that, she was out the door again. She rested against the wall long enough to send a text to Jehan, telling him she was already headed home but that he should have fun and stay a bit longer. As an afterthought, she sent another message.  
"I'm fine. Won't do anything stupid. XX"  
She sighed, pocketing her phone and walking down the two flights of stairs for what felt like the thirtieth time today. She tightly closed the jacket around herself as she opened the door to the outside, looking around. There was no sign of Enjolras on the bench they had sat on earlier, nor anywhere else on the street. She sighed in relief, rubbing her hands against together for warmth.

Grantaire didn't look away from the road ahead as she walked from the bus stop to her and Jehan's apartment. She didn't look at the illuminated windows of 24 hours shops, nor at the softer light coming from pubs and restaurants. She entered her home, took off shoes and jacket and made straight for her bedroom. Flopping onto her bed still fully dressed, she stared at the ceileing for a few seconds, then took out her cellphone. Jehan had replied to her text.  
"Enjolras?" read the screen, glowing almost painfully in the darkness.  
Grantaire sighed and pocketed the phone again without replying. She closed her eyes.

*****

"Nants ingonyama bagithi Baba..." echoed Bossuet's voice, perfectly in sync with the movie playing on his TV.  
"Sithi uhm ingonyama," sang Joly. This was a perfected duet from years of watching Disney movies together. The Lion King was Joly's favorite.  
When the song finally reached the parts in English, Eponine and Grantaire joined in. They all laughed when it came to an end, snuggled tight against one another on Joly and Bossuet's couch.  
"Maybe we should have started a karaoke instead," said Bossuet.  
"Karaoke or Disney movie," stated Eponine, her head on Grantaire's shoulder and hair tickling the other girl's neck. "What's the difference again?"  
Nobody replied, probably because nobody really had an answer to give. The movie went on, everyone clenching on each other's hands when Musafa died, and whipping up another musical number on Hakuna Matata. There were smiles on everybody's lips when the credits started.  
"I told you it was a good idea not to get rid of that VHS player," said Grantaire.  
"Yes, R, I know you did, it's only the hundredth time you remind me of how genius an idea it was."  
Grantaire stuck out her tongue at Bossuet.  
"When is Jehan coming again?" Joly asked as he retrieved the tape from the old VHS player under the TV.  
Grantaire snatched Eponine's wrist to get a look at her watch. "In about an hour or so? He was kind of really hungover after the party at Courfeyrac's, and missed a class, so he's a bit late on work."  
"How did that party go, anyway?" Eponine asked.  
Grantaire flinched slightly at the question, but no one seemed to notice it. "Okay, I guess. I left kind of early, but Jehan had loads of fun."  
"Sorry we couldn't come," said Bossuet, smiling at Joly. "Date-night with Musichetta."  
"And I had to work, as always," added Eponine with a dramatic sigh.  
"Nah, don't worry. I actually knew most people there."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah, from that meeting stuff. Turns out Combeffere - Courf and Enjolras' best friend apparently - loves puns. It made Jehan go hysterical. And I talked with this Marius kid for a while? Sweet guy."  
"Wait... Marius?"  
Grantaire turned towards Bossuet. "Yeah? Marius something-merci?"  
"Tall enough, slim, light brown hair and loads of freckles?"  
"Tons of freckles. You know him?"  
"Ah-ah!" Bossuet exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Yup. He's in some of my lectures. Remember when I told you I saved a guy when my Roman Law teacher was taking attendance? Marius was the guy."  
The story vaguely rang with Grantaire's memory and she nodded.  
"What are the chances that you would actually know him though?" added Bossuet, slipping an arm around Grantaire's shoulder.  
The news apparently got him in high spirits, so Grantaire thought it was best not to mention that she could count the minutes she had spent talking to this kid on her fingers.  
"We should try to all meet up sometime, it would be so much fun!"  
"I did invite you to that party," she pointed out.  
"Date-night, R, date-night," Bossuet replied, unphased. "And I didn't know Marius would be there!"  
"Do you actually know him beyond saving his life in Roman Law class?" asked Eponine.  
That made Bossuet stop, which gave the occasion to Joly to lay his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. Bossuet obediently started rubbing small circles into the med student's short dark hair.  
Eponine stuck out her tongue with a disgusted expression, which made Bossuet reach above Grantaire to slap her lightly on the back of her head while Joly just mumbled a small "'st jealous". It was true that the two had a habit of being disgustingly sweet.  
"We exchanged a few words, I think," Bossuet finally said. "On a few occasions."  
Eponine snickered, as Grantaire dramatically announced "This is just perfect! Let's invite this - admittedly sweet guy - that none of you knows from Adam to some get-together, it will be amazing!"  
Jehan chose this moment to open the door that Joly and Bossuet and left open for him and shout from the hallway. "Who are we inviting for an amazing get-together?" he asked, taking off his shoes and dropping his jacket on the nearest chair.  
"Marius Pontmercy," replied Joly from his comfortable place on Bossuet's shoulder.  
"As in Courfeyrac's roommate Marius Pontmercy?" Jehan asked Grantaire as he made his way to the group lying on the sofa.  
He started kissing everyone in the group hello, on the forehead for Joly, on one cheek for Bossuet and on both cheeks for Grantaire. He then tried to give Eponine a wet smooch on the forehead, but she batted him away.  
"Go away, you freak."  
"But yes, Marius Pontmercy as in Courfeyrac's roommate," Grantaire provided. "Bossuet knows him from school and apparently saved his attendance record."  
"Oh yes! That's why his name was familiar!" He somehow sat down on the couch too, not as much between Grantaire and Eponine as partially on top of both of them. "You're totally right. We should get together, all of us and all of Marius and Courf's friends."  
Grantaire didn't comment on how quickly the whole group of Enjolras' friends had become Jehan's own. Maybe she was jealous, a little bit. Only she had to know.  
"But they totally invited all of you to come to their next ABC meetings," her friend continued. "So maybe we could do that? And ask them to stay for a drink afterwards?"  
"That means we get to see Grantaire's oh-so-famous train-crush, right?" Eponine asked, earning herself a slap from Grantaire. "Worth it," she mouthed silently.  
"It could actually be fun. And interesting," said Joly. "I'm coming with."  
"Yay! I'll mark down everyone as a yes, then! Eponine, you don't have work on Mondays, do you?"  
"No, I think I'll come too." From the wicked smile she threw at her, Grantaire could guess that part of the reason she was going was for the embarrassment it was causing Grantaire.

So much embarrassment Grantaire didn't realise until she had left Joly and Bossuet's apartment that she was going to see Enjolras again on Monday. For the first time after their fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The party scene is finally over.  
> ... What a relief.
> 
> If you thought something along the lines of "Wow, did Meeni actually ever go to a party? Because it sure as hell doesn't show in zir writing!" during chapter 7, that's probably because I know literally nothing about parties. I'm 17 and ochlophobic, you can't expect much from me.
> 
> Thanks a lot for your support!


	9. Chapter 9

Grantaire's fingers were starting to hurt from too many barred chords, but she didn't care yet. She was finally starting to get how the progression worked, which was a relief since Jehan was reading in his room. Her slaughtered rendition of Panic! at the Disco's Nicotine didn't make a particularly appropriate relaxation music. She played for a while longer, until her fingertips were red, and barely put her guitar away before flopping down on her bed. It was a Monday, she'd had no afternoon classes, and in an hour she would be headed to the Musain. And to Enjolras. She sighed, forearm on her eyes to keep the world away from her field of vision.  
She sighed again.  
Siting up, she checked her alarm clock for the third time. 04:58 PM. She bit her lips, then stood up. Pointedly ignoring the mess of clothes in front of her mirror, she exited her room. She might have spent half an hour wondering what to wear. She might have purposefully chosen clothes that made it look like she hadn't spent half an hour wondering what to wear. She might have felt bad about that. Nobody knew except her.  
Jehan looked up from his old and battered copy of Dante's Divine Comedy as she sat down next to him. That book had always been a fixture in their lives. From the day they met, it had accompanied their story. If Grantaire had to imagine Jehan, it would always be with the old tome in hand, fingers curling lovingly over the yellowed pages and a smile tugging at his lips.  
"How many times have you read that?" she asked.  
"I lost count."  
Grantaire hummed in acknowledgement. She had once asked if Jehan had ever thought of buying himself a new copy of the book, but he had shaken his head, whispering a quiet "I like the memories in this one" as he stroked the stained cover.  
"Are you okay?" Jehan asked, concern in his voice.  
Grantaire opened one eye, head lying on the back of the sofa. "Sure."  
"Really?"  
"Why do you ask?"  
Jehan looked down and shook with a soft not-quite-laughter. "Well, you don't often come to me to talk about literature."  
At that, the dark-haired girl put both hands to her chest. "I am wounded. I looooooove to talk literature with you. It makes me feel all warm inside when you talk about rhyme and meter and ooooh..." She dramatically let herself fall on Jehan's shoulder. "Symbolism."  
Jehan moved his shoulder to get her out of the way. "Yeah, right." He closed his book.  
"Maximum information, minimum number of syllables.  
Syntax condensed, sound is solid.  
Intense fragments of spoken idiom, best.  
Consonants around vowels make sense.  
Savor vowels, appreciate consonants.  
Others can measure their vision by what we see.  
Candor ends paranoia."  
Having finished, Jehan turned towards Grantaire, expectation written on his face.  
"I know that one. That's Ginsberg, right?"  
Jehan clapped his hands together, a genuine smile lighting his features. "And we have a winner!"  
That remark earned him a slap on the back of the head, but he and Grantaire were both smiling. She noticed the quick glance Jehan threw her way, as if checking whether she was okay or not, but didn't comment on it. Instead, she fished out her phone from the pocket of her jeans and started a game of Snake. Jehan got back to reading, and for once the silence was comfortable instead of deafening. Oh, how Grantaire longed for anything that would get her to stop thinking.

*****

Grantaire was as baffled as Enjolras when she realised that the meeting was going well. They were talking about hate-crimes, mostly focusing on racism, but both group of friends were quick to exchange thoughts on homophobia, transphobia and sexism too. Grantaire sat at the edge of the group, taking quiet sips of her second beer and extremely glad that no one was paying attentiont to her. She had no idea what the was going on.  
She had expected everything to be awkward, but had instead been greeted by a hug from Courfeyrac, a shy smile from Marius and an enthusiastic wave from Bahorel. Jehan had immediately gotten to talking with Enjolras' friends, while Eponine had stayed next to Grantaire, eyes weirdly focused on Marius. Grantaire wasn't sure whether or not she had imagined her friend's mumbled "Freckles".  
Joly and Bossuet had arrived shortly after that, and seemed to be undeterred by Courfeyrac's greeting hug. "I'm Courfeyrac, Marius' flatmate! Which one of you is Bossuet, so I can thank him for saving my friend's life?"  
Bossuet had raised his hand, which earned him a kiss on each cheek. Giggling at his embarrassment, Joly had jokingly objected: "Be careful, that one's taken!"  
Then Enjolras had started the meeting, and Grantaire's world had suddenly turned upside down as two parts of her life had collided in a too-smooth-to-be-reassuring way.  
Bossuet was now arguing about everyday-racism with Feuilly and Combeferre. Eponine, who had previously launched into a debate with Enjolras - if there was one person that would one day be able to rile em up as much as Grantaire, it would probably be her - was now content to listen to the conversation, glancing at Marius from time to time. It was weird seeing her get so flustered. Sure, the guy was cute enough in an awkward dorky way, but he also seemed for from Eponine's usual style. Grantaire could vouch for that.  
However, it wasn't really her place to make any criticism, not with the way she herself kept shooting discreet looks in Enjolras' direction. They hadn't talked to each other yet and, honestly, Grantaire didn't really want to. The situation left her in a state that was strangely similar to that of their first meetings, admiring em from afar, in silence. It was actually comforting, in a sense. She could observed the hypnotizing aura Enjolras seemed to produce without fear of burning herself on eir words. The blond emself didn't seem bothered at all by Grantaire's presence. Ey was in eir element, among friends and friendly stranger, people who listened to em but didn't really need to be convinced. It is cowardly, in a way, thought Grantaire, shockingg herself as she did. It was true though. Enjolras seemed to be both the bravest person she had ever met and a coward, willing to speak up to anyone about anything, but unable to put emself on the line enough to truly confront an unbeliever.  
Grantaire sighed around the neck of her bottle. She was the unebeliever in that story, she was the unconvinced, the black sheep of the herd. Although... was it truly that bad? She pushed the empty beer bottle away from her, throat still dry.  
The debates around the room seemed to calm down slowly. Courfeyrac had started talking about university with Bahorel, although, on the pink-haired girl's part, the conversation seemed to revolve mostly around what was happening outside of university instead of in class. Grantaire didn't even know what she was majoring in.  
"Should we go, then?" asked Joly, addressing the room at large. There were cheers from Eponine, Jehan, Bahorel and Courfeyrac. Enjolras seemed to tense up, but ey relaxed as Combeferre put a hand on eir shoulder. Childhood friends, thought Grantaire. She glanced at Eponine, who had thrown an arm around Jehan, and smiled.  
"It seems to me like we ought to," she said, rising from her chair. Enjolras' gaze locked itself onto hers and she freezed for half a second, before adding with a smile: "If you would let me lead the way..." She bowed at the waist with a flourish of the hand, then walked towards the door. The group was quick to follow her, the staircase echoing with joyous chatter as they all made their way downstairs. The whole group waved to the staff as they exited the café, under the stares of some bemused customers.  
They did look like an exotic bunch, Grantaire supposed.  
Once out on the streets, the leadership shifted from Enjolras' group to Grantaire's. Confidently, she started walking down the road. Joly, Bossuet and her had arranged an itinerary together and she knew where she was going.  
Surprisingly, Feuilly - she had finally stopped calling him "the ginger one" - was the one to catch up with her first. She didn't really know the guy. Out of the whole ABC group, he was one of the most silent ones. When he did talk however, during meetings, it was always to make a pertinent and well-spoken point. And maybe Grantaire was a bit jealous of how seriously Enjolras would always listen to him. It was a possibility, though she had refused to consider it in much details.  
"Where are we going?" Feuilly asked with a smile.  
"First, to the metro station. Our main goal is a bar called the Corinthe, but we're probably going to make a few stops along the way? Joly insisted that we should give you all the grand tour."  
"Joly, that's..."  
"The one with the black hair."  
"Oh, yeah. Right. Sorry, I'm not good with names."  
Grantaire laughed at that. "Then I can feel less awful for having thought of you as "the redhead" for more than a week."  
"The circumstances force me to forgive you, but only for this time, young lady."  
"M'Lord," replied Grantaire with a bow.  
They both laughed together. They were approaching the metro when Feuilly asked: "So, that Corinthe bar... One of your usual haunts?"  
"You could say that. I used to spend my life there, then I stopped drinking but still went for the food, then the food became awful but I still went for nostalgic reasons. Out of the deal, Joly and Bossuet were the luckiest, since they met their girlfriend there. But yeah. They have a decent dancefloor, and a very decent price for drinks, so we're regulars."  
"I think I've actually heard of the place. Isn't it the one with the pink post on the sign? And a bunch of grapes?"  
"Yup, that's the one! There's actually a whole legend about that sign, but if you don't hear it from the mouth of the owner, it's not the same experience."  
"Thank you for not spoiling it, then. I suppose."  
After making sure that everone had their metro card, they embarked on the green line. Feuilly stayed with Grantaire the whole time, and she had to admit she was grateful for that. There was something about the young man, an atmosphere of warmth and easiness that seemed to surround him. "So... What are you studying, again?" she asked casually.  
"Art history."  
"Are you kidding?"  
"Huh..." Feuilly raised his eyebrows. "No?"  
"Oh my god, you are my savior. I'm an art major and my art history notes are illegible, please tell me you can help me study. I'll pay you and everything."  
The ginger man hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "I guess I can try? Just... I have quite the hectic schedule, so it willt take a bit of planning."  
"Hey, no problem! You're saving my life, I'm not going to complain about details! Can you give me your number, so I can call you to make arrangements?"  
Feuilly nodded again, and diligently spelled out a number for Grantaire. She then sent him a text only containing a smiley, so that he would recognise her own number.  
"Thanks, man. You really are saving me." Feuilly shrugged.  
"Hey, R! It's the next stop, isn't it?" asked Bossuet from across the carriage. It was already late enough for all the workers to be home, and the only other occupants of their wagon were a few teenagers and a middle-aged couple.  
Grantaire checked the map beside her head and nodded. "Yeah, we're almost there."  
As the train came to a stop, all of the group went out at once, leaving a vague air if emptiness to hang behind them. Eponine took Grantaire by the arm as they walked towards the exit.  
"It's really been one hell of a long time since we last went out together, you know," she said, free hand playing with a strand of her long brown hair.  
Grantaire nodded. "I hope you survived without me, I know how awful it must have been!"  
Eponine pretendd to swoon into Grantaire's arms. "I have felt so lonely, I do not know how I could have gone on any longer!"  
"Well, I won't be able to go on any longer if you have to drag your ass all the way to the Corinthe, so if you would be so kind as to actually stand up..."  
Eponine stuck out her tongue at her with a smile. "You should be honored to even get a chance to touch my ass, you ungrateful twat."  
"I have touched plenty of your ass, thank you very much. I didn't need the reminder."  
Eponine tried to punch her shoulder, which lead to them fighting and bickering the whole way to the first bar of the night.  
Grantaire could almost pretend it was an usual night out.  
Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to anastasiapullingteeth twice as much as the others because she is generally an amazing friend and she also made me this fantastically pretty thing: http://demonsonthemoon.tumblr.com/post/98619590430/tunnel-lights-by-demonsonthemoon-the-thing  
> Literally half of what happens in this chapter is fanservice for her, I'm not even kidding.
> 
> The poem Jehan quotes is part of Cosmopolitan Greetings by Allen Ginsberg. (Ginsby is like my fave EVER okay?)


	10. Chapter 10

The world was spinning. No. Not really spinning. More like vibrating. In a constant movement that had no direction, because it wasn't going anywhere. The world was vibrating around Grantaire and she desperately wished it would just go away. Her throat was dry, so she took a sip of her coffee, then another. Her throat was still dry.  
She ran her fingers through her hair, not noticing the trail of paint the motion left on her forehead, and picked up her brush again. The canvas was getting covered in a rush, layer after layer of paint that she was barely patient enough to let dry.  
She was herself in a rush. In a rush to finish this project, which she had to hand in for class, but also in a rush to find some relief for all of her pent-up frustration. She put a finger to her lips, then cursed at the smudge of yellow it left and the disgusting taste in her mouth. Maybe it was time for a break after all.  
She flopped down onto her chair, all but throwing her paintbrushes into the old cup of water she used to clean them. The canvas was standing proudly in the middle of the room, surrounded by newspaper that would hopefully keep it from staining her floor. She stared at it.  
The painting's background was black, the kind of black that suggests blankness, the black of oblivion, of infinite falling. The background was black, but the painting was colorful, an array of reds, yellows, blues and purples. Like a fire burning in space, she tried to tell herself. Like a fire burning in space, or the after-image you get from staring at the sun. In an almost desperate fashion, she was trying to convince herself that it wasn't a portrait she had painted. That it wasn't a self-portrait, or a portrait of Enjolras or - worst. A portrait of them both.

The night at the Corinthe hadn't been a disaster. It had actually been quite fun, even. Surprising as it seemed, Enjolras' people put as much fervour into their partying had they did in politics, at least when it came to Courfeyrac and Bahorel. Grantaire had taken to both girls immediately, and so had Jehan, claiming that it wasn't fair of them to create a "girls only" group. Music had flowed around them for the whole night, along with laughter and shouts. Drinks had circulated, but Jehan's arm around her shoulders had been there to drive all temptations away. Really, it had almost been a perfect night.  
Except that the whole time, the only thing Grantaire had actually been conscious of was Enjolras' presence. The vague outline of eir silhouette as ey talked with Combeferre in the barely-lit bar, the sound of eir voice as ey shouted above the music to be heard by Feuilly, the indifference in eir gaze as their eyes accidentally locked. She was conscious of everything and it was not enough. None of them had mentioned their fight, none of them had even tried to talk to each other. It was painful, and stupid, and sad. But mostly stupid. And painful.  
The weeks after that hadn't been better. Jehan, Bossuet and Joly all relished in their new-found political interests, while Eponine had thrown herself into her affection for one certain freckled boy, which meant that Grantaire felt obligated to come to all of the Les Amis de l'ABC meetings. Everytime, she stayed as far away from Enjolras as she could and tried to keep to herself. Everytime, she ended up letting out a negative comment out of habit and having to debate it with the group's leader. Their friends had learned to fear those particular occurences as, more than once, they ended up in shouting matches or in both of them retreating to heavy silence. Courfeyrac - bless her soul - was constantly trying to find a way to have them get along better, or at least to interrupt them before things got too heated, but she hadn't been very successful so far.  
The worst part was that Grantaire enjoyed it. She had learned to grow impatient every Monday afternoon, knowing that she would get a chance to talk to Enjolras, see em in eir natural element, that she would be able to provoke new emotions in em. The feeling was familiar, like walking a well-known path. This relationship - if you could even call it that - tasted like addiction, and still Grantaire was content to throw herself into its arms. Somehow, Jehan seemed oblivious. Or maybe he had decided not to notice, decided to give her a choice. The young woman could not say which idea made her more uneasy.  
In an attempt to stop interrupting the meetings, she had started bringing drawing material along with her. It had helped at first, a little. Then she had looked at her drawings again and realised how Enjolras' words got into her head even when she was making a pointed affort to keep them away.  
Then exams had begun, giving her an excuse to stay away, to lock herself up in her room as long as possible, studying and working on her midterm assignments. Feuilly had kept his promise and helped her study for art history. He had looked quite stressed himself, stifling a few yawns here and there, but still always keeping an open and cheerful attitude. Grantaire had paid him, offered him coffee and food, and still she thought it hadn't been enough. There was no mention of Enjolras or the others during that conversation.  
Eponine was busy balancing work and her studies in communication, Joly had come down with some sort of illness just before his exams and Bossuet had to take care of him as well as handle his own tests and their girlfriend. Jehan was the only one she still had regular contacts with, and even him was feeling the strain of university work. He didn't take the time to put on make-up in the morning anymore. His clothes had retreated to neutral colors, browns and blacks taking the place of vibrant reds, greens or blues. He looked tired, his fingers constantly ink-stained from writing essays or copying his notes.  
Jehan didn't handle stress very well. No better than she did, at the very least. She knew that, very soon, dark circles would appear beneath his eyes, dark circles that he wouldn't even try to hide because he couldn't bring himself to care anymore. Jehan's mind worked in cycles. For a period of time, he would be entirely focused on his own happiness and that of others, always there to bring a cup of tea to someone who needed it. Then, at one point, something would change and tip the balance the other way, and Jehan would become... scary, in a sense. He would close himself off, become more silent, sombre, he would retreat to books, warmth, writing and his own self. Grantaire tried to stop it, tried to make it last for a shorter time, but it happened anyway. It wasn't always awful. Actually, most of the time, people didn't even notice that something was wrong. Jehan still talked to his friends, still smiled. It just all seemed forced and demanding. Grantaire knew how that felt, and she didn't wish it to anyone.

Drowning herself into schoolwork would only work for a time. The exam session would start in a few days, be over in two weeks, and then she would have to face the world again. She sipped at her new cup of tea, leaning against her desk. It was already dark outside, yet she did not feel as if she could lie down and go to sleep. She felt as if a small ball was ricocheting inside her ribcage, creating a rhythmic thumping that was too difficult to ignore. She could feel herself live, and thus could not bear to play dead by sleeping.  
She put her empty mug down, and slipped into a pair of sneakers. She put on her jacket as she arrived at the entrance door of her apartment, but turned back to scribble down a note in case Jehan came out of his room and couldn't find her. She stuck it on the door as she left.  
The winter air was biting, and Grantaire cursed herself for not thinking of bringing a scarf and a beanie. Hands stuck in her pockets, she started to walk, without a precise destination in mind.  
Jehan sometimes got her to go with him on night-trips. He was fascinated by the unique atmosphere a city developed when the majority of its population was sleeping. He did say "the majority", because what made night so special was the particular brand of people it cultivated. There were insomniacs, workers on night-shifts, partying friends, or people who couldn't do their business during the day for fear of being seen. These night-owls were few and far between, and going from one to the other felt like walking alongside lamp posts. For one second, you were showered with light, but then the darkness engulfed you once again, until the next period of light.  
She was humming under her breath to keep the silence at bay. Her steps carried her to a small park. Actually, it was more of a small playground surrounded by a few bushes. There was a bench there, fortunately empty. She sat down.  
She tried to look at the stars, but the air was too polluted for that. Instead, darkness stared back at her, making her think of the canvas she'd left at home. She took her phone out of her pocket, checking the time.  
01:48 AM.  
A shadow fell over her, and a man sat down. She flinched, fingers hovering above her keyboard in case she needed to call for help. The young woman took a deep breath to calm herself down, then raised her head to look at him. The man was quite short, with a round face and an unshaved beard. His clothes were worn and he smelled of alcohol. His head was thrown back as he looked at the sky.  
"In the country, they call it "dormir à la belle étoile". But you can't do that here. There are no stars to sleep under. No beauty anywhere."  
Grantaire didn't answer.  
"I'll have to stop drinking soon. Otherwise they won't take me in at the shelter. Question of policy or whatever. 't's stupid if you ask me. Without a drink, I can't get warm during the day, and with a drink I get cold at night. Fucking stupid."  
Grantaire closed her eyes. Her heart was beating quickly and echoed in her ears. Her throat felt dry.  
"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, miss," the man continued, sitting straighter. "I just kind of like this bench. And I fancy that this bench kind of likes me too, since I haven't been arrested." He hummed. "Mmh-mmh. 'you a student, miss?"  
The man was actually shuffling away from her, so Grantaire relaxed a little. She nodded. "Art student."  
He smiled at that. "You've chosen well. The world needs a little more color."  
Grantaire sighed. "Not sure if I'm the person for that."  
"Everyone has color in them."  
"I seem to only find it in others." Grantaire didn't really know why she answered the man so truthfully. She still had her phone in hand, though didn't feel threatened anymore. She had gone out without an idea of what she wanted to find. Maybe it had been this homeless old guy all along. After all, Fate had always seemed to enjoy playing with the young woman...  
"Maybe because you're white."  
"Excuse me?" She realised this comment couldn't have been made on her ethnicity - and didn't the fact that she immediately thought of that prove she had been listening to Enjolras too much? - since the man was as light-skinned as her, but failed to see what it meant.  
"You are like the color white. You contain endless possibilities of nuances, yet none of them show through you." The man was looking into her eyes, grey irises somehow sparkling in the night. "Instead you reflect others."  
"Did you study philosophy or something?" The art student asked.  
The man merely laughed. "I suppose philosophy would have been one way to end up here... But no. I didn't enjoy my time at school nearly as much as I should have. Let me tell you a story, though..."

Grantaire listened to the man for a long time, though she didn't even look at the clock when she finally came back home. Jehan didn't seem to have so much as stirred, so she picked up the note she had left earlier and threw it into the bin.  
She quickly changed into some pajamas, and flopped down on her bed. Immediately, she slithered under the covers, fighting off the cold that seemed to have finally caught up with her. She fell asleep in minutes.

Her alarm clock rang, driving nails into her skull. Grantaire slowly opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.  
White.  
The ceiling was white. She thought of the man she had met last night. Of how nice he had been, despite Grantaire's first impression. Trying to recall the details of his appearance was hard, memories fuzzy with sleep, almost as if it had all been a dream.  
She realised it could well have been and smiled to herself, content with this knowledge.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm not dead. Those of you who follow me on tumblr (demonsonthemoon.tumblr.com) knew this, but the reason I didn't update at all in November was because I was working on an original project for NaNoWriMo. For the first time in three years I actually reached my 50k words goal, which I am very proud of! Now that /that/ madness is over, this fic should be back to regular updates. Or what passes for regular updates with me.

Grantaire handed in her last art project with a tight smile, muscles hurting and skin itching under all the layers of make-up she'd had to apply to look even remotely alive. She answered the teacher's questions with as composed a tone as she could muster, which wasn't saying much. She made up some nonsense about the symbolism of her colour scheme, wide gestures barely diguising the tremor in her hands. Her professor nodded, took some notes, and sent her on her way.  
She quickly texted Jehan as she got out of the building, barely taking the time to wave goodbye to a few people she knew from her classes.

R: Finally got out of there. went decently. I just want to lie on the couch and watch TV for the rest of my life now.  
:3 Jehan: Your place has already been warmed and I'm preparing a pile of DVDs!! ;)  
R: I love you.

The walk to the train station was blissfully void of anything, and she sighed with relief. Dates, names and colours had been dancing behind her eyelids for the whole exam period, and knowing it was finally over made her feel like dancing with joy, except she didn't have the energy to do so. She rolled her eyes at how crowded the train was when she climbed on it, resigned to standing. At least she wasn't carrying a canvas anymore.  
The ride was a comfortable somewhat-silence, with low conversations and the noise of wheels on the tracks harmonising into a soft lull. Grantaire remembered that she had planned on sending a text to Feuilly to once again thanking for the art history tutoring, and quickly did so.

R: Hey! Art history exam went really well, thanks again. I'll treat you to some of Jehan's brookie one of these days to return the favor. ;)

The reply came in a matter of minutes.

Feuilly: I'm glad to hear it! Not sure that's a fair trade, though.  
R: You're right, I could have gotten three more study sessions out of you for such a delicious treat, but I'm feeling generous. And it gives me an excuse to ask Jehan for a brookie. :D  
Feuilly: Bahorel is next to me asking for his recipe.  
R: Can't tell you, trade secret! ;)

She smiled and closed her eyes, letting the familiar atmosphere wash over her in waves. Everytime she came home the crowd was new, and still she could pick up the same conversations, the same warmth and the same smells. Sweat, junk food and urban air. She had instinctively started to associate this odour with Enjolras, and couldn't help but breathe it in. They still hadn't talked to each other. Not seriously. Grantaire called herself lucky if she managed to exchange five words with em before one of them got uncomfortable or they were interrupted. Most of the time, it was her who got uneasy, which was ridiculous. She wanted to talk. She just didn't know how.

Somehow it had seemed a lot easier when they didn't know each other. Their first exchanges had gone so smoothly, and maybe it was wishful thinking, but Grantaire was certain she had been able to sense something between them. Now the only thing they shared was an awkward tension that could probably physically trip someone. She sighed.  
Bad line of thought. Exams were over, she was supposed to be enjoying that, not whine about her relationship issues. Huh. That had sounded less outrageously teenage-y in her head.

When she finally got home, Jehan was waiting for her with a pile of DVDs, just as he had promised. He even had a cup of tea ready for her. She kissed him on both cheeks and immediately sat down on their old couch, drawing her knees close to her chest. Jehan put in the first movie and flopped down beside her, before frowning and standing up again. Grantaire had the time to discover that he was making her watch Pacific Rim for the fourth time before he came back with a comforter that he threw across both of their laps. She thanked him and they watched the movie with their sides touching, each adding their own commentary to what was happening on the screen. They put in another movie, and paused in the middle of it to order pizza that they watched in front of a third. Jehan ended up falling asleep on Grantaire's legs, and she softly ran her fingers through his short hair as she listened to the credit music. They were finally enjoying a moment of a calm after a storm, and the relief could be seen on both their faces.

*****

The next Monday found Grantaire and her friends returning to the ABC HQ for the first time since their exams. They all waved hello to the staff as they came in, now part of the known customers, and made their way upstairs. They were greeted by utter chaos.  
There was torn paper everywhere, along with half collapsed piles of posters and flyers. Bossuet tripped on a forgotten roll of tape as he entered, and Grantaire noticed dreadfully that one of the tables was occupied by a dozen empty coffee cups. The impression that a tornado had just passed through the room was only reinforced when Enjolras raised eir head to greet them.  
Grantaire started laughing.  
Which was probably not very nice of her.  
Still, the circumstances should alleviate her sentence. Enjolras' hair was a mess, with some of eir longest strands falling over the shaved side of eir head, and there were bouts of tape stuck into it. There was also a small line under eir chin that must have been made by a pen, and smudges of mascara around eir eyes, probably from rubbing them. All that paired with the look of utter relief ey gave them as they entered made the situation quite hilarious. Courfeyrac and Combeferre were also there, and both looked quite tired, though their condition could not compare to Enjolras'.  
"Oh my god what happened?" asked Jehan, while Grantaire kept on laughing, undisturbed by Enjolras' frown. "You all look like you got hit by a hurricane."  
"Or survived a zombie apocalypse," provided Joly.  
"Or got into a fight with a roll of tape," added Grantaire, slowly recovering her breath. "Wait, no, that was Bossuet."  
The aforementioned friend hit her in the arm for that, but with a smile. Enjolras was still staring at them. Ey blinked a few times, then seemed to finally find eir footing again.  
"We're preparing the protest." Ey said, looking around as if noticing for the first time how messy the room was. "There will be an ABC stand at the starting point of the march and we need to get all the posters and flyers ready, and also some signs to hand out, but one pack of flyers is missing but we can't phone the printer until tomorrow and..." Ey turns to Combeferre.  
"And Feuilly and Bossuet have gone to bring back food," he added, smiling reassuringly at Enjolras, who nodded.  
Grantaire vaguely remembered receiving an e-mail about some kind of march against the augmentation of student's inscription fees, but she had totally forgotten about it what with exams and all of that. She felt kind of lost to be honest. Enjolras seemed to feel kind of lost too, which is probably why Grantaire was even more lost than usual. ... It had made sense in her head, at some point, probably.  
"Can we help?" Joly asked, and Enjolras perked up at that.  
"We need someone to staple the flyers over there, and there are still a few signs to make with these..." Ey pointed at two different corners of the room. "And we're gonna need to load up as much as we can in Courfeyrac's car as soon as Feuilly and Bahore come back, so we can drop everything at her place..." Ey frowned. "Where is Marius?"  
Joly shrugged, starting to look a little lost too. That was a bad sign.  
Courfeyrac came to the rescue, putting a hand on each of Enjolras' shoulder. "He's on a date. With that short-haired brunette from the coffee stand in the park. I told you about it."  
Grantaire thanked every deity he could think of that Eponine hadn't been able to come today. She didn't need any more shitty news right now.  
Enjolras nodded, but still added a low whisper of "He said he would come".  
By that point, Joly, Bossuet, Jehan and Grantaire were all kind of tired of just standing there, and they collectively decided to at least try and do something.  
Joly and Bossuet started helping to tape posters to some old wooden signs, the latter immediately regretting it when a piece of tape got stuck between his teeth, while Jehan helped Combeferre package flyers. Grantaire got stuck with stapling.  
She flipped through the four pages of information with a frown. "You made these?" she asked Enjolras, who was sitting next to her and going over some thing or another on eir computer.  
Ey raised eir head, looked down on what she was holding and replied: "I wrote the text with Combeferre, Courfeyrac proof-read it and Feuilly put everything in shape. Why?"  
"Nothing, it's just..." Grantaire bit her lips. What was she doing? "I just thought that next time I could maybe help with the design?" She raised her eyes, then quickly looked back down again. "I mean, not that it's bad or anything, Feuilly did a good job, especially with how busy he is... Which is why I could probably help, and also I noticed he avoided putting too many pictures in for copyright reasons and I could maybe help with that... being an art student... and all?"  
Enjolras blinked, silent. Then, ey slowly put eir hands on one of Grantaire's, who had been fiddling with the stapler. She stilled and looked up, worrying her bottow lip.  
"I would really like that. We would really like that. It would be a great help."  
Grantaire nodded quickly, took back her hand and went back to working on the flyers. She felt like her accelerated breathing could be heard from across the room. She didn't talk to Enjolras much more that evening, but didn't feel the need to. Feuilly and Bahorel brought back pizza and burgers, and they all ate together in the Musain, which was apparently something the owners were used to. Everyone was busy, and Enjolras still had a bit of tape stuck in eir hair, but it was okay.

*****

The protest went well, even though, as expected, there were left with many unused flyers. Grantaire had come, though she hadn't handled the ABC stand, simply joining the march instead. It had been... interesting. Exhilerating. She thought she could understand Enjolras's passion a little better, now that she had experienced firsthand how powerful a dedicated crowd could feel. Talks were in progress with the government, and everyone was holding onto hope.  
Grantaire actually talked with Feuilly about helping him with the designs, and he accepted the proposition gratefully.  
"Guess you found a way to re-pay me for those Art History lessons?" he said with a smile. "Which you totally did not have to do, since you already paid me."  
Grantaire shrugged. "I want to help."  
Feuilly frowned at that, only slightly, almost unnoticeably. Grantaire frowned too, afterwards, realising what she had said. Was it true? Had she really meant it? She couldn't be sure. It had felt honest enough at the time, she hadn't been actively trying to lie. And still it felt wrong. She hadn't thought about it, hadn't weighed the consequences. She closed her eyes.  
She was lying in her bedroom, now. The ceiling was so familiar she felt like her whole life had been spent looking at it. With a start, she sat back up. She put on a pair of boots, a beanie and some mittens, then put on her jacket. As an afterthought, she turned back to her closet again and dug out a woolen scarf that she quickly wound around her neck. The front door was silent as she closed it.

She walked the streets without looking, convinced that she would still find her way. The day had been warm, and some heat still lingered in the windless air, but not enough for her not to shiver slightly. She walked in long strides to try and keep warm.  
It didn't take long for her to find herself at the playground again. She sat on the metal bench and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, the homeless man was standing before her with a smile.  
"Isn't it already too cold?" she asked.  
The man shrugged. "One can never be sure." He sat down next to her.  
"Will you tell me a story again?"


	12. Chapter 12

"We can't let the government do what it wants and say nothing. Those measures do not make an ounce of sense in regards to the current situation. Courfeyrac and Bahorel passed out a survey during some of their classes, and unemployment is one of the biggest concerns that people have concerning the future of our country."  
Grantaire raised her hand.  
"Combeferre made a spreadsheet with the results of the survey, you can check percentages later, Grantaire."  
She put her hand down with a smile and let Enjolras continue eir speech.  
"As you probably all know, the idea of the government is to raise the age of retirement. They think it's the perfect way to deal with our aging population without generating additional costs. But what about the cost such a measure would have on the workers themselves?" The blond let eir voice soften and took a deep breath. When ey started again, it was more driven than ever. "What they want is not to help the working-class by alleviating taxes, what the government wants is for people to drop dead at work before it has to pay a penny for their retirement. The number of manual workers who have to stop working because of strain-related injuries after the age of fifty is already enormous - and yes I do have figures to corroborate that, they'll be on the slideshow - but having those same workers keep on going like this until they're sixty-seven is plainly impossible."  
Grantaire could see Marius nodding furiously beside her, looking as entranced as Grantaire had probably seemed the first time she had seen Enjolras. He was a sweet guy, too innocent for his own good and a bit gullible, but sweet. She knew he had lived for a long time with his grandfather, and thought that maybe it was why he felt so concerned by their current cause.  
"Moreover, this so-called solution doesn't do anything to help the current unemployed population. By making people over sixty work longer, we are keeping positions locked and preventing the youth from accessing employment. The number of unemployed people under 25 is now fast approaching the 30%, and we are talking about people with university degrees or complete professional training. Most people that we talked to agree that this situation is unfair and that the new measures will change nothing. And that's withoug mentioning the fact that some ministers have mentioned the idea of making cuts on insertion allocations."  
Joly raised his hand from where he was sitting, half on a chair and half on Bossuet's lap. "What exactly are those?"  
It was Combeferre who answered from behind his laptop. "They are special funds allocated to people under 30 who have just finished a training or degree in higher education and are looking for a job for the first time. They're supposed to help young adults get settled while they look for employment."  
"Okay. I understand. Why exactly do they want to cut on those?"  
"It's just another way of saving money, to them," said Courfeyrac from where she was seated, legs propped up on one of the Musain's tables. Grantaire had a suspicion she kept that kind of behaviour limited to the upper room, because the café's owner was quite honestly terrifying, and very possessive of her furniture.  
"I wouldn't have put it in such a crude way," added Combeferre. "But in the end Courfeyrac's quite right."  
From where ey was standing, Enjolras nodded. "And that's exactly why we need to do something. The government tries to find money everywhere, except where the money really is. With these new measures, they're only ensuring that the rich keep on getting richer and that the poor have too much trouble even surviving to cause them trouble in any way."  
"So, what's the plan, chief?" Grantaire asked with a smile.  
Enjolras frowned. "The plan is to help with the effort people are already putting into this. There's going to be a series of strikes, on both regional and national levels. Now, we all know what reputation strikers have with the population."  
Ey paused to look around the room, at all the people assembled there. Everyone had a drink in their hands, and still the atsmosphere was more serious than even a classroom could be. A few nodded.  
In one gulp, Grantaire finished her soda. She moved her chair closer to the table in front of her, ignoring the dark gaze Enjolras sent her way at the noise it made.  
"So what I thought we could do is try to inform people about what those strikes are really about, how they should feel involved too and such. We can try to set up stands at some of the campuses in town, work on a presentation we can share through social media, and maybe get flyers to hand out, if we have the time."  
Grantaire opened the sketchpad she had brought with her and picked up a pencil. She had been working with the same pad since the start of the year, and was quickly running out of paper. She would have to go to a store soon, but since she needed some new paints for classes too, buying such a good quality sketchpad was out of the question. Then again, her birthday was coming up. Maybe she could try to get someone to pay for it?  
Knowing her parents, either they wouldn't remember her birthday on time or they would send her something she didn't care for. They meant well, most of the time. When it didn't cause them too much trouble.  
She started doodling on the lower half of a page, the drawing above it having been finished for a long time. Around her, Joly and Combeferre were discussing the possibility of reaching the med-school campus, since they were so often left out due to their distance from the center. Marius had fished out his phone and, from the smile on his lips, was probably reading a message from his new blonde friend. She smiled.  
Under her pencil, a picture slowly appeared, that of a banner held by little representations of Combeferre and Enjolras, huge heads on tiny body and sparkles in their eyes. She scribbled the word "freedom" on the banner and, as an afterthought, added a picture of Courfeyrac lounging on the ground in front of it.  
Marius had apparently finished texting because he bent over her shoulder to look at the drawing. "It's really cute!" he said with a grin.  
The artist looked down. "Thanks."  
"Grantaire?"  
She looked up immediately at Enjolras' call, her thick curls falling in front of her eyes. She would have to get them cut. Maybe she could ask Jehan to do it for free.  
"Yeah?"  
Instinctively, she put both her arms on her sketchpad, hiding the small doodle from view. Enjolras didn't comment.  
"You said last time that you would be okay with helping us design flyers. Does the offer still stand?" Ey was speaking clearly, head held up straight, but Grantaire couldn't help but notice eir left hand toying with the cloth of eir skirt. "We would love your help, but only if you have the time. I know it's a lot to ask."  
Grantaire ran a hand through her hair. "No, I..." She bit her lips. Since it was only the start of the second semester, she didn't have to worry to much about her projects, but agreeing to this still meant a lot. She looked at Enjolras, blue eyes rimmed with black eyeliner, long strands falling to eir shoulder, wearing a blue sweater above eir red skirt paired with high socks. Ey looked unsure, innocent almost. Grantaire felt her heart clench, just as it had the first time she had met the blond. "I'll do it. I mean, I can't promise professional quality either, and I'll need some help from Feuilly to see what you're expecting but... I can do my best to help."  
Enjolras nodded quickly. "Thanks. That's all I needed to know."  
Ey turned around and walked back towards Combeferre and Courfeyrac. The latter put an arm around eir shoulder as ey arrived and winked in Grantaire's direction, which made her frown slightly.

*****

As Grantaire came home from the meeting that Monday evening, she found Jehan lying on their couch, orange trousers half-hidden by a pair of green woolen socks he often wore to keep his feet warm. His laptop was open on his knees, but he seemed more focused on the phone between his hands, smiling at the screen.  
"How is the essay going?", Grantaire asked, taking her jacket off.  
Jehan put one arm down and dramatically let his phone drop to the floor as he covered his eyes with the other hand. "Do not talk to me. The mere mention of this thing is giving my fingers cramps."  
Grantaire smiled and laid a kiss on Jehan's hand as she passed the couch.  
"Come on, you love what you do."  
As she walked to her bedroom to drop her bag, she heard a dramatic sigh from the living-room.  
"It is sadly the truth and I am doomed to enjoy the pain in my wrists in some kind of masochistic manner." The young man sighed again. "Anyway, how did the meeting go? Courfeyrac texted me saying you were gonna help with the flyer design."  
Grantaire came back to the living room and made Jehan move his legs. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, I know I'm the one who offered to help, but now I'm kind of unsure I'm actually gonna be able to do it without messing everything up."  
Jehan punched her in the shoulder at that, without adding any further comment. Fair enough.  
"So does that mean you get to work on the whole thing with Enjolras?"  
Grantaire froze, turning her head towards her best friend with an expression resembling that of a deer caught in headlights. Of all reactions he could have had, Jehan laughed.  
It was Grantaire's turn to try and punch him, except the litterature student dodged to the side and caught her hand in his instead. They started fighting, or at least something that could have passed as fighting between two three-year olds. Jehan called for a break, carefully moving his laptop and cell phones further away from the couch, then resumed the previous game of wrestling. They almost fell from the couch at some point, and ended up giggling one on top of the other for a while.  
As they calmed down, Jehan started running his hand through Grantaire's hair. The feeling was welcome, familiar. Grantaire relaxed.  
"You two are better now, right?"  
"Mmh?"  
"You know who I mean.  
Grantaire sighed and nuzzled Jehan's neck, seeking warmth. They would have to put the heating up. "Do I?"  
She got nudged in the ribs for that.  
"Oh, you meant me and Enjolras? We're fine."  
"Grantaire."  
"We're... Yeah, we're better now. We're talking to each other again, a bit. I mean... the last protest went well, and it made Enjolras so happy, so I guess ey's kind of more open for the moment thanks to that? I don't know."  
"What about you?", Jehan asked softly. There was no need for loud voices between them and Grantaire was thankful for that. "How are you feeling?"  
Grantaire had to think about it for a while. "I'm not really sure. Things have been good, and things have been less good too. Exams are over, but uni has started again, it's still really cold outside but Eponine told me she would be able to pay next month's rent. I'm kind of floating through stuff right now."  
"Feeling like you're only experiencing half of what's happening?"  
"Yeah. Exactly."  
"Mmh."  
Jehan kept on toying with his friend's hair, silent.  
"Could you cut it for me?", Grantaire asked. "I'm kind of short on money, but it's getting into my eyes."  
"Yeah, sure. Let's do it now."  
They both got up from the couch, side-stepping Jehan's laptops, and went to the living room. Grantaire felt kind of bad for keeping Jehan away from his schoolwork, but the truth was... she had missed this. During the whole of the exam period, the young man hadn't been himself, and only now did he seem to get some of his old enthusiasm back. She wanted to bask in his present as if she could retain the heat he emitted forever.  
Jehan grabbed a pair of scissors from a drawer, and a first lock of Grantaire's hair fell to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there isn't much happening in this chapter, but I promise that should get better soon. Truth is, I had to get back into the habit of writing for this fic, which was kind of hard after not having thought about it for a whole month...  
> Anyway, I hope you still enjoyed it!
> 
> PS: all this political stuff I'm talking about? Definitely based on the situation in Belgium right now. I changed a few figures and stuff, but otherwise it's pretty much about Belgium. Because I have no imagination.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY JELLYFISH THIS IS SO LATE I’M SO SORRY I’VE JUST BEEN SO BUSY WITH UNI AND STUFF AND aaaaaah sorry sorry sorry.

Feuilly's apartment was on the third floor of a residence that belonged half to his university and half to private owners. His own place belonged to the uni and was partially funded by his scholarship. He was supposed to have a roommate, but she wasn't home.  
Grantaire took in the small flat, its tiny hallway and windows that had seen cleaner days. Then Feuilly took her into his room.  
The atmosphere there was the total opposite of the rest of the building. If the kitchen looked old and potentially deadly if you didn't know how to handle it, Feuilly's bedroom was neat and ordered, with framed pictures all over the walls. The young man's desk was fitted against one of his wall, and the space just above it was decorated by a corkboard filled with notes and pictures, mostly of Les Amis. Grantaire spent a few minutes looking at them, and at a few black-and-white pictures of cityscapes.  
"Did you take those?" she asked as Feuilly came back from the kitchen with two cups of smoking tea. She pointed at the cityscapes.  
"Oh. Yeah. I scraped up some money over the years to buy myself a good camera."  
"They're good!"  
"Thanks," said Feuilly, putting down the mugs on his desk and running a hand through his short hair. "So, huh, I started drafting a few things on my computer for the flyers, I could show that to you, and then we can work to make it better?"  
"Sounds fine to me. I'll get my tablet."  
She pulled out the drawing tablet from her messenger bag while Feuilly set up his laptop, then plugged it in, leaving it time to download any necessary program to the computer.  
Feuilly opened his drafts, and quickly explained what he had meant to achieve with certain designs. They both got caught into their work quickly, discussing disposition, color schemes, font use and whatever else they could find something to say about. Grantaire added a diagram on one page, and the two students laughed as she started drawing a tiny character supposed to be Enjolras making faces to illustrate the text.

They had been working for two hours when the shrill noise of the doorbell made itself heard. They both jumped, and Feuilly looked down at his phone.  
"Oh. I didn't think it was so late. That's probably Enjolras."  
"Enjolras?"  
"Yeah, I told em ey could come check on the designs and tell us what ey thought. Since it's eir text we're illustrating and stuff. Didn't I tell you that?"  
Grantaire shaked her head but said nothing more. Maybe she was panicking. A little bit. But that wasn't something Feuilly needed to know.  
Feuilly stood up. "I have to go down to open the door, the intercom doesn't work anymore."  
"I'll be fine here, no worries," replied Grantaire, watching him go.  
The door closed with a soft thud and she was left on her own. She knew it was just for a few minutes, but it still felt strangely suffocating. She didn't know this room, she didn't know this home. She barely even knew Feuilly, despite the hours they'd shared over an art history textbook. She stood up, pulling at her sweater. She ran a hand through her hair and cringed. She had asked Jehan to cut it shorter, but now that it barely reached her chin, she felt weird about it. At least it meant that she wouldn't have to worry about cutting it for a while.  
She didn't hear either footsteps or voices before Enjolras and Feuilly opened the door again. She was still standing in the middle of the room and staring at the empty air at they came in, and jumped a little.  
"Hey," she said with a smile, turning towards Enjolras.  
Ey frowned. "Hey. Did you cut your hair?"  
"No. I actually burned it with a candle."  
Feuilly smiled, but Enjolras only frowned harder, and the girl took pity on em.  
"Jehan cut it for me."  
"Oh. It suits you."  
Grantaire took a curl between two of her fingers and pulled at it a bit. "If you say so," she replied, unconvinced.  
In what appeared to be an unconscious gesture, Enjolras ran a hand through eir own blond strands.  
There was silence for a few seconds, before Feuilly decided to interrupt their unconscious staring contest.  
"I'll show you what we've done, if you want. We used that photo from the last protest, and Grantaire helped me with some more illustrations..."  
There was only room for two chairs in front of the computer, and Grantaire felt content to sit on Feuilly's bed and watch the two friends work.  
Enjolras didn't make many negative comments, only giving a few ideas about the layout that ey thought would suit the overall tone better. Feuilly wrote all of it down, nodding quickly.  
Grantaire looked around the room some more, staring at the pictures around her. She wondered if she could have a room like that, someday. A room that felt like her, really like her, not like some collage put together by a five year-old to cover dingy walls. Feuilly didn't even own this place. She had lived with Jehan for two years, and their flat still only felt like home on the best and worst days. Grantaire didn't shape her environment to her needs. She shaped herself to fit the environment.

"Grantaire?"  
There was concern in Enjolras' voice, and Grantaire turned towards em, surprised. "Yeah? Sorry, I kind of spaced out."  
Enjolras pursed eir lips. "I was wondering if there was something else you wanted to add? Because, otherwise, I think we're done here."  
Grantaire shaked her head, still unused to the light weight of her curls. "No, it's fine by me."  
"Let me just turn this off then," added Feuilly, fiddling with his computer. He handed her tablet back to Grantaire, who put it in her bag, getting ready to leave the apartment.  
"Do you want to go eat something?" Enjolras asked. Ey was turned towards Feuilly, but eir tone indicated that the invitation extended to Grantaire.  
The young woman looked up in surprise.  
"Huh. I actually have other things to do," replied Feuilly, running a hand through his short ginger hair. "Sorry. Maybe some other time?"  
Enjolras nodded, then turned towards Grantaire. "What about you?"  
The art student clutched the strap of her messenger bag. "Why not, I guess?"  
"Great." Ey turned around. "I guess I'll see you soon then, Feuilly. Send me the document whenever you're done, and I'll see that it gets printed. Thanks again for all the work, you did a great job."  
"No problem. Besides, I had help this time." He winked at Grantaire, who couldn't help but smile in return.  
"Bye, then," Enjolras concluded with a wave of the hand, heading towards the door. Grantaire waved at Feuilly too and quietly followed the blond out of the apartment. They kept silent as they descended the stairs, and Grantaire felt her shoulders tense. Were they really going to get lunch together, as if they were friends? Just thinking about it made her feel awkward. Not that she didn't want it. More... More that she couldn't even imagine Enjolras being comfortable with her as only company for what would last half an hour at the very least.  
They reached the streets outside, the february cold seeping through layers of clothes. Grantaire looked up at Enjolras, whose heeled boots made em look even more towering than usual.  
"It's okay if you'd prefer to be with someone else. I mean... You wanted to invite Feuilly, and I had planned on eating on my own anyway, so it's fine. You really don't have to do this. If you don't want to."  
Enjolras was frowning, looking confused. Grantaire scratched her ear. She was reminded of her first ABC meeting, how Enjolras had looked at her then, like ey was disappointed, but mostly like she was a particularly difficult puzzle to solve.  
"Do you want to?"  
"What?", replies Grantaire, stupidly. She would have loved to be able to punch herself in the face without looking crazy right then.  
"Do you want to go and have lunch with me? Would it make you feel uncomfortable in any way if we did?"  
"No! I mean... Yes." She looked down at her feet, her boots that had seen better days and her skinny jeans that did little to keep out the cold. "I would like to have lunch with you."  
"Okay."  
Enjolras started walking without another word, and Grantaire gaped after em. She had to jog a little to be able to walk next to em again.  
Ey didn't look at her again for a while, chin held up high and gaze fixed forward. The same confident attitude that had caught Grantaire's eye in the first place. Although, now that she knew em better, Grantaire could see a very small tension in the way ey held eir jaw, as if eir posture wasn't entirely natural.  
The young woman thought she was probably partly responsible for that.  
"Where are we going?", she asked. Not that she wouldn't follow Enjolras to the end of the world if it came to that, but she was hoping to find some kind of warm shelter soon enough to not die of hypothermia.  
"I know a place nearby. I've eaten there a few times with Feuilly. They're pretty cheap, and good enough."  
Grantaire nodded. She didn't know what else to add. All the small talk she could think of seemed too trivial to be bothered with.  
"Over there." Enjolras pointed to a small shop. It didn't look like much, a building longer than large, with a small window that let you see a few platters of baked goods, a wooden counter and a few small table and chairs at the back. A small bell chimed as they entered, and a man welcomed them in a monotone voice.  
"I'll have a vegetarian bread roll and a blueberry muffin, please," said Enjolras, smiling politely and already taking out his wallet to pay.  
Grantaire panicked a little, looking at the list of available sandwiches.  
"Huh... an eggs and bacon one for me. Thanks." The man gave her a pointed look as she tripped on the words, and she unconsciously clenched her fist on the strap of her bag.  
"Any drinks?"  
"Just a bottle of water, please."  
"Same," quickly added Grantaire.  
The man took their money, gave them their drinks and turned around to prepare the food. Enjolras hadn't been lying about the price, but Grantaire still didn't feel completely at ease.  
They sat in front of each other at a small table in a corner of the room, knees nearly touching and bags forgotten at their feet. Both of them kept silent as they watched the man work.  
Grantaire started twirling the end of her hair around a finger, up until the moment she noticed Enjolras' heavy gaze on her hand. She slowly lowered it, watching the blond's eyes follow the movement.  
"So...", she started, not knowing what to say.  
"So?"  
They were saved for a moment by two trays being placed on their table with a look that carefully navigated the line of glares. Grantaire took a bite, and smiled around the bagel, savouring the taste of a perfectly fried egg.  
The corner of Enjolras' mouth was raised as ey talked. "I told you it was good."  
Grantaire nodded. "That you did, but you've got to admit I had a right to be suspicious. This place looks kind of shabby." She quickly glanced at her side, checking that the owner hadn't heard her words.  
Enjolras nodded, taking a bite of eir own food.  
"How is school going?" Grantaire asked, because it was at least a thing to talk about, even if pretty lame. She hadn't expected Enjolras to wince.  
"Huh. Fine, I guess. I mean, considering."  
"What?"  
Enjolras shrugged, swallowing another bite. "My exams didn't go all that great. I mean, I passed a good part of them, but with nothing like flying colors. And three of them I'll have to re-sit in June."  
"What?"  
Enjolras raised a hand to eir neck, looking to the side and away from Grantaire. Realising what she had just done, the young woman quickly reached for eir other hand.  
"Wait. No. Sorry. That was super rude of me." She looked down at her fingers, gripping Enjolras' wrist, and quickly let it go. The blond closed eir fist slightly, but left it there. "I really didn't mean that in a bad way. I was surprised, that's all. I mean, I'm not judging or anything, I failed a year in highschool, so I know it just happens, but you're..."  
She stopped herself, and Enjolras raised an eyebrow. She twirled a hand in the air in a vague gesture, before leaving it helplessly open in front of her friend.  
"You're you. You're smart, and you're focused. You're dedicated and passionate about so many things. You're able to concentrate on your reading even when Bahorel and Courfeyrac improvise a karaoke, and you're so bright and..."  
Enjolras was looking down at eir hands. Eir expression was a mystery to Grantaire, something that resembled a smile, but only in a twisted way, with what could be a blush on the cheeks or a trick of light. Eir shoulders were tensed, and Grantaire saw one of eir thumbnails digging into eir skin.  
"And I was surprised. Sorry. That was stupid."  
She looked down at her plate and what was left of her food, but couldn't bring herself to eat in a moment like this.  
"No, I..." Enjolras was rubbing at eir wrist, obviously uncomfortable. After a moment, ey seem to come to a decision, took a deep breath and looked up, shoulders squared. "I get that a lot, actually. People automatically assume I do well in class, they have for a long time. And... I mean, I'm not bad at school. I actually did pretty well in highschool, it's just... You said I was focused. And it's true. On certain things. But sometimes those things become more important to me than my work for university, and I get behind, and I don't have enough time to make things right. Combeferre is trying to help me with that. But it's not that big of a deal, really."  
Grantaire looked at em. For the first time, she could see how much effort it took for Enjolras to keep a straight back, how eir composed face was really just a composition, how the confidence that usually came out of em in waves was really something ey had learned, and not something ey'd been born with. For the first time she saw how human and fragile Enjolras really was, and part of her wanted to forget it all, and make that image go away, but part of her just wanted to hold eir hand and tell em it was okay, because she once started crying in the middle of a math test, and once she hadn't been able to look her father in the eye for a week. She wanted to hold eir hand and tell em it was okay, because it didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. She wanted to hold their hand and tell em it was okay, because nothing mattered, really. She wanted to hold eir hand and tell em it was okay, because failure wasn't weakness. She wanted to hold eir hand and tell em it was okay, because sometimes things just are.  
Okay.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my. This chapter is basically just me throwing glitter in the air because I just want them to be happy. Sorry about that.  
> Also, the library’s description is based half on one of the university libraries in Leuven, and half on the Enlightenment section in the British Museum.

Grantaire put her hands in her lap, biting her lips. Enjolras looked at her in silence for a while, then started toying with a crumb on eir plate.  
"Don't play with your food," Grantaire immediately said, the words coming as a reflex. She was so used to saying it to Jehan that she didn't even register her action before Enjolras frowned, a smile on eir lips.  
Grantaire felt a burn in her cheeks. "Sorry."  
"It's okay," Enjolras said, voice deep and soothing, like ey knew she needed the reassurance.  
She shivered. "No, it's not. What I said was shitty. I shouldn't be making you feel inadequate, it really wasn't my intention and..."  
Enjolras put a hand on the table, right next to Grantaire's plate.  
"Stop it, Grantaire. Stop it right now. Don't start this again."  
"Start what?"  
Enjolras sighed. "This thing we've been doing. This constant sabotage of our conversations. I don't want to fight with you."  
"But what do you want, then?" Grantaire let out in a tiny voice. She immediately regretted saying it, since it was exactly the kind of self-sabotage Enjolras had just condemned.  
"Do I really have to want something? Can't I just spend a moment with you?"  
"I..." Grantaire was taken by surprise. "No. I mean, yes, of course, I just..."  
"Don't you sometimes feel this was easier when we didn't know each other?"  
The dark-haired girl took a bite of her bagel, just to give herself some more time to think. When she answered, she managed to keep her voice calm, hiding how difficult it truly felt.  
"What do you mean, when we didn't know each other?"  
"The first time we talked, on the train. We were just two strangers, then. And I feel like it was easier. Isn't it weird?"  
"You said it yourself, Enjolras. We were just two strangers. We had no backstory to carry around, nothing to put between us."  
"And what's between us, right now?" Enjolras asked, a weirdly determined expression on eir face. Ey slowly started eating again, just as Grantaire, but the young woman got a sense that it was more as not to waste the food than because the atmosphere had relaxed.  
"So many thing, Enjolras. There are so many things."  
"Tell me about them."  
Grantaire looked. She couldn't tell if the blond was serious or not, but since ey didn't say anything else, she had no other choice than to fill the silence herself.  
"There's the way you're so involved in your work for the ABC, and how it really is too easy to annoy you because of it. There's the way I don't really care at all, most of the time. There's the way none of us really talks about their past." There's the way I look at you when you don't know I'm there. There's the way you look at me in the drawing I made. "There's the fact that we have too much time to talk about mundane things, and so we directly go for the stuff that hurts."  
She looked up into Enjolras' eyes. The blue irises seemed darker than usual under the crude lighting of the shop, but eir blond hair was still shining brightly.  
"Tell me about your family," Enjolras said.  
Grantaire frowned, then laughed. "What the hell?"  
Enjolras shrugged. "I don't know, it seems like a good place to start. Or I could tell you about mine, if you want."  
Grantaire put a hand to her face, then ran it down her hair, letting her fingers catch in the dark curls.  
"Whatever. Well... My parents are both alive, and still living together. And I have a younger sister named Chloe."  
"Do you see them often?" Enjolras asked.  
She shaked her head a little. This conversation was weird. So weird. But Enjolras seemed to be at least partly genuinely interested, so she answered eir question honestly. "Not really. I never got along really well with my parents, they didn't approve of my bohemian lifestyle, or whatever. And when I started transitioning, they kind of told me I should stay away from Chloe."  
Enjolras frowned. "That's..."  
"Nah," said Grantaire with a flick of her hand. "It's fine. They're not that bad. Didn't even throw me out or anything. I got the whole cold-shoulder thing for a while, but it could have been worse. And I still do see Chloe from time to time."  
Thinking about it, she hadn't visited her sister since the start of the schoolyear. She immediately felt bad about it, and Enjolras must have seen her shoulder tense because ey immediately started talking in her place.  
"It still wasn't a nice thing for them to do. But I'm glad you do get along with your sister." Ey smiled softly. "I'm an only child myself, and I might sound like a stereotype, but I've always wanted to have a sibling. I think my parents wanted to have a second child too, they just never could."  
"Do you get along with your family?" The question felt kind of artificial in Grantaire's mouth, but at the same time she felt a small ball of curiosity swell in her stomach.  
Enjolras shrugged. "Sure. Well enough. They don't really understand what I do with the ABC. They don't really agree either. But they keep out of my way, and I keep out of theirs, and we all get along fine in the end."  
Grantaire nodded. She had almost finished her food now, and so had Enjolras. Without thinking about it, shet let out a question.  
"Do you wanna... I don't know. Go for a walk, or something? After this? I don't have anything to do and... I guess I would like to."  
Enjolras smiled. "You know I could give you the whole speech about how we don't usually do things together and how we don't know each other that well, right?" Grantaire looked away with a smile, noticing the mockery in the words. "I'm not going to, though." Ey picked up the last crumbs from eir plate, then took a gulp of water. Putting the bottle into eir bag, ey stood up then turned towards Grantaire again. "You coming?"  
The art student sighed. It seemed so easy for Enjolras to take control over things, and she had to admit that she was a bit jealous. As they both walked out of the shop, they nodded in the direction of the owner, who was serving other clients and completely ignored them.  
As they stepped onto the streets, Grantaire was reminded of how stupid her ideas sometimes were. The street was calm, it being the middle of a Saturday. Part of the calm was also probably due to the fact that nobody in their right mind would want to walk when it was so freezing cold. She sighed, and her breath came out with a visible puff.  
"I'm thinking we should go for the or something part, not the walk," she said, making Enjolras laugh. "Do you have something you want to do?"  
"Not really. Do you have any idea?"  
"Huh... Not really. I mean, I usually go hang out at a museum or the other, when I have nothing to do, but I don't know if it would be that interesting to you. Or... wait." She tried to map out the streets they had taken from Feuilly's place, figuring out approximately where they were. "There's this old public library nearby. The building is kind of worth the sight, and they have a nice reading room. We can also get some coffee there."  
Enjolras nodded, pulling eir jacket closer to eir body. "That sounds like a nice plan," ey said.  
Grantaire started to walk, looking at the street signs from time to time to make sure she was going the right way.  
"Do you know all of the city so well?" Enjolras asked after the silence had started to get heavy.  
"Hmm? Oh," Grantaire shrugged. "Not really. I mean... I know a few places here and there. I guess I can just connect places easily, remember maps and stuff."  
"It's quite impressive, actually."  
"If you say so. Here, we need to go a bit up that street, and it should be on the left."  
The walked the street in silence and, sure enough, soon stopped in front of an old stone building.  
"It used to be part of the city's university. Like, in the late Middle-Ages, or something. But when they separated everything in campuses, the building got bought by the city."  
Enjolras nodded, looking up at the building. Grantaire couldn't tell if ey was really interested, but ey seemed to admire the construction anyway.  
They went inside. The automatic doors kind of clashed with the old décor, but they didn't really pay any attention to them. The hallway was also freezing, and both visitors sighed in relief as they passed a second pair of automatic doors into the main room.  
"Wow," said Enjolras, and Grantaire felt a weird sort of pride swell in her body at the surprised look on eir face. The room was filled with neatly arranged wooden shelves. Most of them were packed with books, but there were also a couple of glass cases in which various historical objects were stored. They both carefully wiped their feet on the rug at the entrance, and Grantaire smiled at the receptionist.  
Enjolras immediately started walking down the aisles, eyeing the displayed curiosities from time to time, but mostly looking at the books. Ey turned towards Grantaire, who was following a few steps behind, with an almost childish smile.  
"Do you think Combeferre knows about this place?" Ey asked. "Because he would love it. He would love it so much."  
Grantaire laughed. "I bet. I've never talked to him about it though, so I couldn't tell you. I don't even know where he lives, is this place even close to his flat?"  
"Mmh? Oh, I guess not. We kind of live on the other side of town..."  
"You can still tell him about it. Organise a field trip, or something."  
"It's an idea, though I kind of also want to keep this place a secret. Or maybe save it for his birthday?"  
Grantaire giggled again. "Come on," she said, taking Enjolras by the wrist without thinking. "I'll show you the reading room before I let you rove free. I don't want you to get lost forever."  
Enjolras hummed and followed her steps up a wodden staircase. They came up to another short hallway in which a bronze bust was judgementally looking at them. The hallway led to a large wooden door on which a huge lion was engraved. The door only creaked slightly as they opened it, though Grantaire kept expecting it to groan like in a medieval drama. The reading room was nearly empty. It was furnished with loog wooden tables, and shelves of books were again piled against the wall. There were even a few wheeled ladders that people could use to reach the highest tomes.  
"I thought those things only existed in films," Enjolras said with an excited look.  
Looking at em and at eir smile, Grantaire could feel herself blushing. She had decided to come here on a whim, not really expecting that Enjolras would like it that much. She knew ey was enthusiastic about a lot of things, and had seen em glance at what Jehan was reading from time to time, but all had mostly been guess-work. Now here she was, in a place she loved for its calm and stability, watching Enjolras act like an excited ten years-old impersonating a hurricane. If she were to be honest with herself, it felt a bit like voyeurism, to be able to see this other side of Enjolras, this carefree and innocent side. The blond always appeared stoic and determined when she imagined em, and seeing the inner child in em was confusing. Not disappointing, though, far from that. She could feel something clench in her chest as ey turned around to smile at her.  
"You have the theology and arts sections spread out on these walls, but everything else is downstairs. There's also a coffee machine near the reception, but you can't drink while you read. You can ask the receptionist if you need help finding something, but normally there are signs above each sections. And you don't need to register to take books to the reading room, though you need a card if you want to borrow something. Or I guess you could just use mine."  
She had gone through the whole paragraph in what felt like a sole breath, and was kind of embarassed to see Enjolras smiling at her when she looked up. Ey tilted eir head, letting eir long hair fall on eir shoulder in a waterfall.  
"Thank you."  
Grantaire took another breath. "You're welcome."


	15. Chapter 15

"Ey was smiling. Just... Smiling. _A lot._ It was _awful_."  
Jehan laughed softly at Grantaire, patting the cushion she had put on her head in a silly attempt to hide her blush and/or to disappear from the face of the earth.  
"There, there. Shhh, it's okay..."  
Grantaire pulled the cushion down to glare at Jehan, who failed at keeping a straight face and just started laughing harder. The young woman sighed and raised her arms above her head in defeat.  
"Come on, let it all out. I'll just wait for you and lie in my own misery."  
Jehan shaked his head and frowned, suddenly more serious. "Come on, R, give me some air. You had a _good time_. More importantly, _Enjolras_ had a good time. With you. I fail to see how all of this leads to misery."  
"But I don't know _how_ it happened! Or why! And now I've set the bar too high and I'll probably disappoint em for the rest of my life."  
Jehan tapped her legs, asking her to move a bit so that he could sit down. She bent her knees and brought them closer to her chest, leaving her friend just enough space to not have to sit on her feet.  
"From where I'm sitting, it looks a lot like you're just exaggerating - no, don't you roll your eyes at me. This whole thing between you and Enjolras has been a mess from the start. To me, it's obvious that you like em. God knows I'm probably the least qualified person to give you romantic advice, but listen to me, okay?"  
Jehan paused, waiting for Grantaire to nod in assent.  
He sighed. "You like em. But, somehow, almost all of the conversations you have together end in shouting matches. The problem with you two is that you're different from each other. You don't think the same way. You don't just... click right."  
"Are you telling me that I'm an idiot and should just stop trying?"  
Jehan carefully put a hand on one of Grantaire's knees, hoping to calm her down.  
"That's not what I'm saying at all. Because, look at you, Grantaire. Whatever I say, you're not gonna give up. Your reaction just now proved that. So, what I'm saying, is that you should use the differences between you _in a different way_. Stop being confrontational and just... learn from each other."  
It was Grantaire's turn to sigh. "You sound like em. But it's not that easy."  
Jehan smiled, a bit sadly. "I'm gonna tell you a secret that I've been keeping for a long time, Grantaire. You're not gonna like it."  
Grantaire raised her head towards him, eyebrows raised. "What?"  
"I know your violent attitude is just an act. I've known for years. I've let you do it, because sometimes it helps, sometimes the wall is a protection and you need it. But here? Here it's making you miserable. You need to let go, and just enjoy what you have. You like Enjolras? Good. Spend time with em. Tell em you like em. Better yet, show it to em. You're suffocating yourself here, so now it's time to move."  
Grantaire changed position, sitting across the sofa to hug her knees to her chest. She didn't look at Jehan.  
The literature student didn't add anything. He knew he had said his part, and it was Grantaire's job to figure out what to do with it.  
"What if there's nothing left once I strip away the wall?"  
Jehan looked down and carefully moved his hand towards one of Grantaire's. He was relieved when the girl took it.  
"You won't know until you try."

She stayed on the couch for a while, silent. Jehan got something to read and sat next to her, a pen in his mouth and taking a few notes now and then.  
"I'm gonna go for a walk, clear my head."  
Jehan looked up from his book and stared at her for a few seconds. "Okay. Enjoy yourself."  
Grantaire nodded, then finally stood up. Once she was on her feet, she realised that she couldn't stay put, and nearly ran to the hallway to get her jacket and put on her shoes. She took the steps two at a time to get down. Once outside, she felt like the cold air was wine to her soul, both rich and biting in her throat.  
She started walking, letting her feet carry her on a path that now felt familiar. She needed the silence of the old playground.  
She walked, and she thought, and her mind was filled with Jehan's words. To tear down the wall. Was it really something she could do? Would it change anything? Was it _worth it_?  
She thought of the first time she had talked with Enjolras, how the conversation had flowed easily between them. Nothing to put between them. Nothing to hurt each other with. Could she take that back? All those words she had said, because it felt easier to mock than to pity, because it was easier to laugh than to fear, because it was easier to talk than to stay silent. Could she take it all back?  
Grantaire looked around herself. She recognised the neighbourhood. She could have pinned where she was on a map. But she had no idea where to go next.  
She tried to retrace her steps, but couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. She had no idea where to go.  
She kept walking for a while in the direction she'd been heading in, up until the moment when the buildings started to loose their familiarity. The sun had already nearly set, even though it was still early. Grantaire shivered.  
What was going on? She knew the playground was here somewhere. It must be. This didn't make sense.  
She felt a headache coming on. Slowly, she sat down on the ground, head resting on the wall of a small apartment block.  
Panic was rising in her chest. She couldn't fathom how she had been smiling in a library just a few hours ago. All her feelings were confused, her thoughts jumbled but sharp and she yearned for something to dull the pain of it.  
She forced herself to breathe slowly and let the panic recede. After a minute, she gave up, pulled her knees to her chest and dropped her head on her forearms. She started waiting it out. Her hair fell down across her legs.  
She wondered if she could fall asleep like this, sitting on the sidewalk on a february night. She wondered if she could die like this.  
Before she had time enough to focus on what that last thought entailed, she felt her phone vibrate in her jacket pocket.  
She pulled it out and flipped it open.

Enjolras: Thank you for this afternoon. I'm glad we managed to actually talk to each other this time.

Grantaire smiled and closed her eyes. She wanted to laugh at how easy it would be to be offended by such a message. But instead, she understood. She understood that it was genuine, a heartfelt thanks with awkward phrasing. And what a timing.  
She had a thousand comebacks ready to shoot out of her fingers. She didn't type any of them. She sat there in silence for one more minute, her breathing finally getting back to normal, then slowly spelled out:

R: I'm glad too.

She kept the phone in her hand after hitting send, not exactly sure what she was expecting. It vibrated again.

Enjolras: I enjoyed spending time with you like that.  
R: Me too.

She meant it. It had felt nice and simple. For a while, Enjolras hadn't been the person she was pining for. Ey had been a friend. Maybe those weren't mutually exclusive. She typed another message before she could stop herself.

R: Want to maybe do it again sometime?

She pocketed her phone and stood back up, deciding to walk back home before she read the answer. She received a new message when she wasn't even halfway there, but kept going.  
The apartment was warm when she opened the door, and she immediately took her jacket off. She could smell olive oil coming from the kitchen. Her stomack grumbled.  
Right. She hadn't eaten anything since she had gotten back from her afternoon with Enjolras. And it was already almost eight.  
She carefully walked to the kitchen. Jehan was standing there in checkered pajamas and fluffy slippers, roasting some pine nuts to go with the pasta and pesto sauce he had prepared. He turned towards her and she hugged him, quickly and silently.  
"You okay?" Jehan asked softly against her shoulder.  
"I think so. Thank you. For... yeah. Thank you. And sorry I stayed out so long."  
"No worries," replied the literature student, slowly untangling himself from his friend. "I cooked a double portion of pasta. You want some?"  
Grantaire smiled and nodded enthusiastically.  
"Okay. Can you get the plates?"

They had both finished eating dinner when Grantaire finally looked at her phone again.

Enjolras: I would love to.

She smiled and flipped the screen closed, before snuggling on the couch with Jehan, her computer on her knees as she worked on a project for her design class.

*****

"I wanted to know if some of you were willing to help the Green Youth campaign about the Paris ecological summit. They are usually pretty organised, but they don't have enough volunteers to take on a large public. And since we're not based in any university, it's easy for us to reach a lot of people."  
Grantaire knew that, if she wanted, she could just raise her hand and say something along the lines of "But it global warming actually _real_?" to start a heated debate. It was tempting, but she restrained herself.  
New day, new self, all that stuff. She had missed the time of New Year's Resolutions, too busy working, but maybe now was as good a moment as any.  
A few people asked questions, wanting to know what the campaign entailed, for how long they were supposed to volunteer and in what time period. Enjolras answered as best as ey could, easily admitting that the information ey had received by the other group was still vague, and that they would only let them handle what everyone considered the "dirty work", i.e. handing out flyers and putting up posters.  
In the end, Jehan, Bossuet and Courfeyrac all volunteered for a few hours each. Grantaire was surprised by Jehan's decision. She knew he was still up to his knees in required readings and he would usually always discuss it with her before committing to something. But she didn't mind.  
The rest of the meeting passed by slowly and, although she did end up making a few criticizing comments, it wasn't anything nearly as vitriolic as she had been known to do. Besides, if she had said nothing at all, the others would probably have started to get worried about her health.  
When Enjolras called the meeting to a stop, the art student asked whether some of the students were willing to go have a drink. Joly and Bossuet nodded, as did Bahorel. Marius apologized, blushing as he said that he had something else planned for the evening. Courfeyrac threw an arm around his shoulders at that, pretending not to notice that Marius almost choked on her hair in the process.  
"Awww. Our little Marius on a date. They grow up so fast, don't they?" She threw a look at Combeferre, who indulged her in the form of a nod and a smile. "Have fun, little one," she said, ruffling Marius' ginger hair. "And don't hesitate to ask me if you have questions about the... logistics."  
Marius actually started choking at that, while Courfeyrac erupted into laughter. Grantaire snorted at them.  
In the end, even Jehan chose not to come, so the four who had initially agreed were left to their own devices. They all agreed not to make it a long night, since most of them had classes the next day.  
"Where do you want to go?" Grantaire asked. "We can go to the Corinthe, but it might be a bit far for just one drink, don't you think?"  
Bahorel nodded. "Leave this one to me, guys." She winked and started walking, obviously expecting all the others to follow her, which they did without hesitation.  
The young woman with pink hair stopped in front of a small pub, which was obviously playing the "traditional atmosphere" card, but with enough restrain that it actually felt authentic. Bahorel pushed the door open triumphantly, breathing in the smell of spilled beer and old wood like it was expensive perfume.  
"Hey, babe!," came the voice of one of the bartenders. Bahorel raised her middle finger at him with a smile, before walking in his direction.  
"'sup?" asked the bartender, easily.  
"Give me four beers for my friends here. Good stuff, the night will be short so we've got to enjoy it while we can."  
The man, as tall as Bahorel was short, with long brown hair, smiled as he turned around to take out pint glasses. It was obvious that the two of them knew each other, tough it was less easy to figure out whether their banter was some sort of flirting or if they were just friends from a long time ago.  
Joly and Bossuet exchanged a look, then shrugged, choosing to sit at a table a few meters away. Grantaire stayed with Bahorel, and helped her carry the drinks once they were served.  
They all sat down, and it only took a few minutes for their chatter to become more animated, with Joly complaining about how he was always working and how he felt he was coming down with a cold, Bossuet mentioned a few of his notorious daily misadventures, while Bahorel talked about anything under the sun. Grantaire had to be impressed by her ability to gossip, even though her information seemed to contain a lot more violence than what more people were used to.  
After a bit more than half an hour, a waiter came to collect the empty glasses, and Bossuet ordered a new round of drinks for everyone. Grantaire quickly asked for a glass of water instead.  
Bahorel gave her a look at that, but was too polite to ask.  
It was okay. It was nice. _This_ was nice.  
Grantaire smiled.  
Things were okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm sorry for how long it took me to put this chapter out. Real life took a of time, especially with my university exams and stuff. (I think I passed all of them though, so that's cool.)
> 
> Also, if this chapter feels like it's a bit of a mess... It's because Grantaire is a bit of a mess right now. And I didn't know how to write that any other way than this.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for discussion of gender dysphoria.

Grantaire gulped her pill down at 11:23, with what could be considered a late breakfast or an early lunch depending on your point of view. She emptied the rest of the milk left in her cereal bowl in the sink, finished her glass of water, and immediately went back to her room. The washing-up could wait until the evening.  
Despite the open window, the smell of turpentine was heavy in the girl's bedroom. Others would probably have felt sick because of it, but she inhaled it and felt at home.  
There was an easel in one corner, surrounded by old newspapers to stop paint splatters from hitting the ground. She had been working on this project for a week and a half now, and her preliminary sketches were pasted on the wall in front of the actual painting. She put on an old sweater above her pajamas before taking up a brush. She stared at the easel for a while, trying to figure out where she would go from there. Finally, she took out her oil-based paints and started adding more colors to the painting.  
It was a Saturday in March, and Jehan had decided to go pay a visit to his family for the weekend. She didn't really mind being alone in the apartment, since she would have been working alone in her room anyway. She was surveying her art with the wooden tip of a paintbrush resting on her lower lip when her phone chimed, signaling a text. Grantaire was conflicted at first, because answering meant putting down all her material and washing her hands, but quickly realised she had already been working for nearly two hours and that taking a break couldn't do any bad. She quickly went to the kitchen sink to clean herself, then came back and finally flipped her phone open.

Enjolras: I'm sorry to bother you, but I need someone to talk to. Are you free for a while?

Grantaire furrowed her eyebrows. Something felt extremely wrong. Maybe it was the phrasing, the use of a simple word like "need" that implied a weakness the artist had trouble associating with Enjolras. She considered it, realizing that seeing things that way was incredibly unfair. Ey was human. Of course ey needed others sometimes. But why would ey need Grantaire?

Grantaire: Sure. Is something bothering you?

She hit send and sat down on her bed, propping herself up with a cushion behind her back. She wondered wether she should put on some music to relax herself, as she felt her body tense with negative anticipation.

Enjolras: Kind of. I'm at my parents' house for the weekend. We're having lunch with some of their colleagues. I'm in my room, pretending that I'm working for uni but the truth is that I just don't feel like facing people right now.

Grantaire closed her eyes. This was weird. This was uncomfortable and she was terrified that she felt that way. It wasn't about her, it was about Enjolras. And Enjolras was showing her a side of em she had not dared to imagine. Now she had to find the reason why.  
Why hadn't ey called any of eir other friends? Why hadn't ey called Combeferre or Courfeyrac for help, since they had all known each other for so much longer?  
Then it hit her.  
The young woman went to her contact page, and called Enjolras' number. If she was right, this would be easier to do while actually hearing each other's voice.  
Enjolras picked up after the second ring.  
"First of all, tell me if you feel more comfortable doing this by text, but I truly feel like I can help you better if I can hear you."  
She heard Enjolras taking in a breath, imagining eir brows furrowing, a strand of blond hair probably twirled around one finger.  
"It's..." ey started saying, slowly and softly, as if ey didn't want eir voice to be picked up by anyone else. "It's okay, I think."  
"Okay. Good." She took a breath. This was the part about which she was either right or completely wrong. Chances were high that she was right. It didn't comfort her at all. "Was the reason you texted me because you're feeling dysphoric right now?"  
Enjolras didn't reply right away, and that was confirmation enough for Grantaire. She had expected it. Being trans was the only experience she and Enjolras shared that the other people in Les Amis didn't, so there wasn't any other plausible reason for Grantaire to be Enjolras' go-to. It kind of hurt to think about it that way. At the same time, she also knew that she didn't really care. She wanted to help.  
"I... Yes. I think so. How did you...?"  
"Figured it out. There's not really any other reason for you to be calling me instead of Courf or Combeferre."  
"That's not," replied quickly, obviously trying to avoid offending Grantaire.  
She interrupted em. "Nah-" She quickly caught herself before saying "dude", thinking it probably wasn't the best idea considering the situation. "It's okay. No hurt feelings whatsoever. I'm still not sure I can do anything for you, though."  
Enjolras sighed on the other end of the connexion. Ey was probably running a hand through eir hair right now, if Grantaire's observations of eir usual mannerisms were correct. Which they were. She had done pretty extensive research.  
"I don't... I don't really want you to do anything. I mean, there isn't a magic formula to make this feeling go away."  
"Preach," thought Grantaire. She stayed silent to let the other student express emself fully.  
"I think I just wanted someone to talk to. Someone who wouldn't make me feel like I'm just making things more complicated for them by being me."  
Still sitting in her bed, Grantaire started playing with a strand of her hair. It had already grown back quite a bit, she realized as she twirled it around one of her fingers. She was distracting herself to keep some distance, because every word coming from Enjolras' mouth confronted her with horrible dejà-vu.  
"What happened? I thought you and your family got along well...?"  
"We do," replied Enjolras with a bitter half-laugh. The art student wished she could see eir face and judge more correctly what was going through eir mind. "Like I said, we're having lunch with some of their colleagues. And _they_ aren't even trying. But I know I can't ask my parents to correct them. I just don't feel like causing a fuss, the idea of having to explain everything over and over again makes my head hurt. So I'm hiding in my room. Like a child."  
"Not like a child," Grantaire said. "It's not childish to take care of yourself. And what's the purpose of a private bedroom if not to let you get a break from other people?"  
"To sleep in it?"  
"Isn't that also taking a break from other people?"  
"Maybe you're right," Enjolras half-sighed, half-chuckled. That twisted something inside Grantaire's stomach. The blond wasn't usually cold, far from that, but eir reactions always seemed to show some kind of restraint. Ey must be feeling exhausted to let emself laugh so simply.  
"But, really, these guys suck. You don't deserve to feel like shit because they can't get over their own ignorance. Nobody deserves to feel like shit for that."  
"Not gonna disagree with that. I just hate feeling this way. Because it's not really that their mistakes and comments hurt... Not in a physical way, not in a way I can fight against. They just make me feel detached. I feel like I'm watching a movie, hearing them talk about someone else, but something in the framing or the way the dialogue is written makes it seem all wrong, like the character is a twisted version of me."  
Grantaire couldn't say that she completely understood. That would be a lie. Her gender dysphoria never manifested that way. She recognized the idea of wrongness, but to her it made itself heard in a very present, almost physical, way.  
When it happened, her first step was always to remove herself from the situation if she could - which Enjolras had done - and then she would try to distract herself by pouring her thoughts into something. Art, make-up sometimes, picking an outfit or even cleaning her room. It was about control, and when she had it everything usually went fine. When she didn't... It sometimes took time.  
"It's not the script that's wrong. It's them. You know better than them."  
These were just platitudes, words that every trans person had somehow learned to repeat to try and make all of their problems disappear. It didn't really work, most of the times. But it made things a little more bearable, she guessed.  
"Is there something you usually do to distract yourself from these kinds of feelings?" Grantaire asked.  
Enjolras took some time to answer. "Not exactly. It depends on the situation. I guess... I just want someone to talk to right now."  
Grantaire nodded, even though the other student couldn't see her. She was still extremely confused as to what to say. If this was all a distraction, she supposed it was better to change the subject, but she had no clue as to what to talk about.  
"What kind of music do you listen to?"  
"... What?," Enjolras asked, clearly confused.  
"I said: What kind of music do you listen to? This is a sad attempt at distracting you, and also a way for me to satisfy my curiosity in a hopefully not-creepy way. So?"  
"Uh. It depends. I like songs with meaningful lyrics -"  
Grantaire made a sound that was almost whining, before she could stop herself.  
"What?" Enjolras asked, simultaneously confused and pissed off.  
"Just... That was _so_ predictable of you. Of course you would be a lyrics snob. But that doesn't help me at all. Any artists you particularly like?"  
"Mmmh... Well, there's this one independent folk singer called Grace Petrie that just released a new album and -"  
"Anything I might have heard of?"  
Enjolras sighed, and Grantaire smiled to herself.  
"I like Taylor Swift?"  
There were a few seconds of silence, then Grantaire burst into laughter. She felt like she would never stop laughing, and when Enjolras joined with a giggle of eir own it became worse. She didn't even know why she found it so hilarious.  
"Oh my god. I am totally imagining you rocking out to You Belong With Me, right now," she managed to say when her giggles had calme down enough.  
"I admit that I like her last album better, some of her early songs have lyrics that make me slightly uncomfortable."  
"Yeah, I get it dude." She noticed too late what word she had just used, but since Enjoras has never been bothered by it she hoped ey would just not notice it. "Do I get it."  
"Courfeyrac has been a terrible influence on me over the years. What about you?"  
"Mmh?"  
"What kind of music do you listen to?"  
"I'm gonna let you guess." Grantaire was having fun. She was sitting in her bed in an empty apartment, talking to a friend on the phone, and she was having fun.  
"That's not fair."  
"Nothing you can do about it, Enj'. It would be a cause even more lost than your usual."  
"Okay. Well, you called me a lyrics snob. So I'm guessing that you're not the alternative/indie fan I thought you were?"  
"Nope. Although, if you want to talk about obscure Icelandic DJs, there's always Joly."  
"I feel like there's a story there, but no, thank you. Old rock music?"  
"Are you calling me a hipster, seriously?"  
"I'll take that as a no."  
Grantaire smiled at the ceiling after having moved from a sitting to a lying position.  
"Sad punk music?"  
"That is a surprisingly precise question. I've been known to enjoy it, though I would say it only makes up a third of my music collection, if I'm feeling generous."  
"Okay, I give up. Just tell me."  
"It seriously isn't anything special, you know." Grantaire was smiling, one hand under her head and the other holding the phone. "I don't know why nobody expects it from me, but I actually mostly listen to upbeat pop music. I'm a big Ke$ha and Marina & the Diamonds fan. And I've been known to enjoy boybands too. You should have seen Jehan's face when I brought home One Direction's first album."  
Enjolras started laughing. "Oh my god. I would never have guessed."  
"I know!" replied Grantaire dramatically. "Nobody does. It's not as if I was hiding it though! I will totally sing in the car and-"  
"Wait," interrupted Enjolras. "My parents just called for me. I'm gonna have to go."  
"Okay, yeah. No problem."  
"Thanks, Grantaire.  
"You're welcome?"  
"Take care."  
Ey hung up at that, and Grantaire was left alone. Suddenly, the apartment did feel empty. She got up to make herself some tea.  
"Time flies," she thought, catching the digits on her alarm clock and then staring at her unfinished painting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I was supposes to post this chapter yesterday but didn't have the time, hence this irregular Sunday post.
> 
> About this chapter...  
> I really wanted to address gender dysphoria at least once in this fic, not because it's one of the most important part of the characters' story, but because it's something that happens. And, realistically, it's a thing two trans people would bond over.  
> (also, minor detail, but I headcanon Feuilly as trans. It's not specifically talked about in this fic, and Grantaire doesn't know about it, but Enjolras did have another option of someone to talk to. Eheheh.)
> 
> Disclaimer, though... Gender dysphoria is experienced differently by everyone, and this chapter is based mostly on personal experience and testimonies of other people, but it's also fictional. It might not accurately descrive the reality of what gender dysphoria feels like. I did my best though.
> 
> By the way, Grace Petrie is a real artists and she's awesome. Enjolras' conflicted feelings about Taylor Swift are all 100% mine.  
> And Grantaire pretends that she learned to play One Direction songs on the guitar because of Eponine, but it was 200% of her own free will.


	17. Chapter 17

As Grantaire entered the upstairs room of the Musain, she immediately noticed that Enjolras was frustrated. Combeferre was standing next to em, their shoulders almost brushing. Courfeyrac was sitting on the other side of a table, right across from them. She was pointing at a stack of paper and talking with Combeferre, while Enjolras listened.  
Jehan joyously announced their presence with a grand "Hello!" and Courfeyrac immediately turned to wave at him. Grantaire took a moment to notice that Feuilly was also already in the room, since he had set up quarter in one far corner, bent over what was probably university work.  
It took a few more minutes for Marius to arrive, then Bahorel. Bossuet and Joly couldn't come, since the medical student had caught a flu and his boyfriend was taking care of him. Eponine, as usual, was busy elsewhere.  
Enjolras stood up and ran a hand through eir hair. "Okay, so, first of all, thanks for being all here. I know I only remembered to confirm the meeting yesterday, which I honestly apologize for. I've been distracted, and it's not a valid excuse, but it's all I've got."  
Everyone in the room nodded. In Grantaire's opinion, Enjolras was taking this way too seriously. None of the people here would actually judge em for something as petty as this.  
Enjolras sighed, looking down at eir hands. Tension rose in the room.  
"I've got some bad news," ey said. Eir eyes traveled across the room with seriousness. "We've heard from reliable sources that there is going to be a counter-protest this Sunday. The news have been talking about migration more and more these days, and there is talk of a possible new legislation on the EU level. Hopefully, this means that more supporters will want to join the march, but several far-right groups have released statements saing they were going to shut it all down."  
Enjolras took a breath and closes eir eyes for a second, visibly frustrated. Combeferre chimed in before ey could start talking again, visibly thinking that Enjolras needed some time to calm down.  
"The organizers of the original march have already reached out to the police, but there hasn't been an official response yet. And even if there is, we're not sure they'll be able to stop violent conflict from happening."  
"So what you're saying is..." Marius started, worry clearly written on his face.  
"That the ABC is no longer officially going to this march."  
There was silence in the room. Even Grantaire felt a strange mix of anger, disappointment, and a little bit of relief surge through her. Looking at Enjolras, she could see that ey was mostly feeling the anger and disappointment.  
"Officially going?" Jehan pointed out.  
Enjolras ran a hand through the long strands of eir hair. Ey was wearing a white shirt over dark skinny trousers today, and the lack of colors reinforced the solemn impression of the scene.  
"This was a decision made by Combeferre, Courfeyrac and I, as the founders of this group. We do not want the ABC to be tied to the violence - if it happens - and we also do not want to ask of our members that they risk they safety in the name of the group."  
"And of the hundreds of migrants dying each year because european governments refuse to deal with them," Grantaire thought bitterly. Frequenting Enjolras and eir friend had progressively made her worse at the whole not-caring thing she'd had going on. She wasn't sure how she felt about it. She was also unable to ignore all the emotions etched across Enjolras' face. It was like ey was physically hurting. Sure, even Grantaire felt disappointed, but such a reaction for one protest? It seemed exaggerated.  
"But every one of us is free to come to the protest anyway," Enjolras finished. "We can even organise a way to go together, even if it's not in an official manner. Just... know that it's risky, and that nobody here will judge you for not wanting to come."  
Once again, there was a moment of silence around the room. Everyone seemed to be considering what they were going to do, weighing their options.  
"I'... I'm sorry," Marius was the first to talk again, eyes going up and down and never staying fixed on anything. He scratched at his neck. "I would really have liked to come but I... I can't really afford for anything to happen. And I know it's still a small chance that something bad would happen to me but... but I can't afford the risk."  
Combeferre nodded, smiling calmly. Courfeyrac also turned towards Marius, her beaming smile a beacon of reassurance.  
"I'm gonna have to say no, too," Jehan said. If the young man could hold his own in a fight - and he had done so several times already since Grantaire knew him - he wasn't a big fan of starting conflict, and crowds tended to make him uneasy if he was already on edge. "Sorry."  
"And I've already told you I have something else planned that day," Bahorel chimed in. "So it's a no for me too."  
Enjolras nodded, expression severe. Grantaire hated to seem that way. She held up her hand more out of habit than as a mocking gesture this time.  
"I'll come."  
Enjolras gaped at her. Grantaire would have liked to say that she felt outraged by this reaction, but the blush creeping up her cheeks mostly marked her as embarrassed.  
"I don't have anything better to do, and I do need to fit boxing practice inyo my schedule somehow."  
"That's the spirit, girl," Bahorel said, actually walking across the room to give her a high-five. She was nothing if not dedicated.  
Looking up at Enjolras, she saw em roll eir eyes fondly, which somehow made her heart beat quicker.  
"Hopefully you won't actually get the chance to practice boxing on anyone, but we appreciate the thought, Grantaire."  
"I," Courfeyrac started. "personally do not appreciate the fact that you didn't share the fact that you box earlier. I could totally use a bodyguard someday."  
"It's been quite a while, so I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask. Like I said, I need the practice."  
"I'm coming too," Feuilly said, interrupting their conversation.  
"To boxing practice?" Courfeyrac asked with a toothy grin.  
The ginger student rolled his eyes. "To the protest. Well, I could come box with you too, but the fight would be unfair."  
"Hey there, calm down, big guy," Courfeyrac said. "You think you can take me in a fight?"  
Feuilly cocked his head and raised an eyebrow in a way that clearly said "Oh, please."  
Laughter erupted around the room.  
After a minute, Combeferre coughed in his hand. "Now that we've settled all of this, maybe we should go back to the actual meeting and the things we wanted to talk about?"

*****

Sunday came quickly, after a blurry week of classes and art projects. Grantaire woke up early with anticipation humming through her veins.  
She liked the atmosphere of marches and demonstrations. Even if she couldn't quite believe they made a difference, she liked the thrill of being surrounded by people, of having energy flowing through you like you're just a conductor for something more powerful than you could ever dream to be.  
And Enjolras would be there, in all eir fiery passion. It was during these kinds of events that ey was truly emself. There, ey didn't have to be contained anymore, ey could let all eir passion, all eir caring show through and nobody batted an eyelid. Thinking about it, Grantaire took a second to be scared. If violent groups actually got involved in the proceedings, how would the blond leader react? Not well, probably. It wasn't in eir nature to back down.  
Grantaire prepared her breakfast a little less cheerfully.  
Jehan joined her half an hour later, his hair sticking up in every direction and eyes still half-closed from sleepiness. "Why did you have to wake up so early? The protest isn't until this afternoon."  
Grantaire shrugged around a moutful of orange juice. Jehan sighed and sat down in front of her, stretching his arms above his head.  
He tapped on Grantaire's hand softly with two fingers. "Be careful out there, okay?"  
Grantaire nodded. "Of course."  
Jehan hummed, eyes fixed on a point just above Grantaire's head.  
"Are you doing it just for Enjolras? The protest."  
"Huh..." Grantaire was taken aback and had to think about her answer for a moment. "I don't think so."  
"So you actually care about the issue?" There was surprise in the young man's voice, but Grantaire didn't mind. In all the years they had known each other, Grantaire had done her best to turn more and more apathetic. Jehan had been with her through some terrible moments, had been the first one to support her in her identity and the one brought her tea when she didn't feel like talking. And she had thanked him by shutting herself to the outside world.  
"I don't know. I'm not sure, I... I guess I'm trying, though."  
"Never thought I'd see the day," Jehan replied with a smile.  
Grantaire bent her head, embarrassed.

*****

They met up at the train station, all four of them: Grantaire, Enjolras, Feuilly and Combeferre. The latter reminded everyone of various security measures, endlessly stressing the fact that they should try to always stay together.  
Grantaire felt good just standing there, feeling the anticipation growing between members of the group. She was wearing her most comfortable sneakers, as well as a pair of jeans and her favorite green top under a jacket. Beside her, Enjolras was clearly aiming at visibility, wearing eir bright red leather jacket above a dark sweater. The heels of eir boots made em as tall as Combeferre.  
Grantaire kind of wished she had thought to bring a beanie, as Feuilly did, because the air was chillier than what had been broadcasted. Still, she told herself she would power through as the group started to walk towards the meeting spot for the march.  
There was already a crowd there, though it was far from an enormous one. Grantaire felt a bit disappointed at that. Enjolras seemed to have noticed the same thing.  
Still, the people who were actually there seemed enthusiastic enough, and a lot of them had brought banners and brightly painted signs with them. It had been another decision of the ABC to not bring any sign with them as to reduce the risk of altercation. There was a truck leading the march, with an audio system currently pouring out music but also a mic.  
The four of them just stood there awkwardly for a while, before Grantaire attempted to strike up a conversation with Feuilly about an urban art festival supposed to be organised in the Spring. Enjolras and Combeferre seemed to have been waiting for this occasion to leave them alone, and started mingling with the rest of the crowd. Grantaire told herself that she didn't mind. They were probably doing important ABC business, although Grantaire had no idea what that might be. Also, she really didn't fancy having to strike up conversation with strangers whose thoughts were probably completely focused on the regulation of migrants coming to Europe. It wasn't really her kind of ice-breaker. So, no, she didn't mind it at all that Enjolras and Combeferre had just left. Besides, she liked Feuilly.  
So she talked with him for a while, up until a middle-aged man climbed into the truck and picked up the mic. The two other ABC members reappeared almost magically at her side, and she listened to the speech.  
The man was passionate, if a little prone to dramatics, and he managed to raise the enthusiam of the crowd well enough. Then the actual march started. Everyone gathered behind the truck, which started to move slowly, and police officers surrounded the crowd. They were quite a few of them, though they didn't seem specially equipped, so Grantaire was unsure of how serious they deemed the threat of violence to be.  
Slogans started being shouted, and Grantaire felt the thrill she was here for. She just had to repeat the words that were sent her way and everyone would think she belonged. So she shouted too, and the crowd made it's way towards the city hall. They were only a ten-minutes walk away from their destination when it all turned to hell.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the delay, I was working on another project for Camp NaNo. There is one more chapter of Tunnel Lights that I still need to edit and will post next week, then there will be a short epilogue.

They heard the slogans quiet. People marching before them stopped walking. A few shouted, several meters in front of them, then they saw white smoke rising.  
"Oh, shit."  
People started running away towards them from where the smoke was coming from, creating a massive stampede. It was chaos. Combeferre, Enjolras, Feuilly and Grantaire all ran away with the crowd. It was either that or get stepped on, so they didn't really have a choice. Once they were at a safe distance, people turned around to look at what had actually happened. Grantaire's heart was beating fast. She and the others had managed not to get separated, which was good, but they were nearly being crushed by all the people around them.  
A few words started going through the crowd.  
"Tear gas?" Feuilly said, incredulous. "How the hell did protesters get their hands on that?"  
Nobody had an answer for him, but at least the cloud of white smoke had started to dissipate, and the few police officers who had escorted them seemed to actually be doing their job and were carrying injured people to safety. Grantaire moved around a bit and finally caught a glimpse of the counter-protesters. Their group was smaller, but the first row of them were all grinning, and Grantaire could see that some of them still had unused tear gas grenade with them. She saw at least three baseball bats in the crowd too.  
"These people are completely insane," she whispered.  
So maybe she hadn't fully realised what Enjolras had meant by "threat of violent conflict". But it just seemed crazy. Grantaire had trouble understanding how people could feel involved enough in a cause to _organise a march_. But to procure yourself weapons, come crash a peaceful protest and decide to beat up people and risk arrest? That was a whole new level of toxic dedication. The police finally cleared the scene of victims, and Grantaire saw some of the officers tapping into their com lines, probably asking for reinforcement.  
Then they started separating the two groups, batons out. Grantaire felt her blood run cold and she saw Enjolras tense up.  
People were not really happy about this tactical decision. Not when the counter-protesters who had thrown the gas in the first place weren't treated any differently. They had weapons in plain sight, and nobody was even trying to arrest them.  
The police had probably decided that it would be too risky without reinforcement, that they really couldn't do anything about the counter-protest without endangering the life of their officers, which was a no-go. The people concerned didn't actually see it that way. How surprising.  
A few people at the front of the group were already engaging with the officers, though Grantaire and her friends were too far to hear.  
"Should we...?" started Combeferre. Enjolras nodded determinedly and started making eir way through the crowd, careful not to push anyone around, but firm as ey asked people to let them through.  
Most of the people there were happy to let them do their thing and stand back. They hadn't come here for conflict and their safety was more important than whatever was going on. Grantaire wished Enjolras was able to think like that, sometimes. But since she was following em anyway, she guessed she didn't really have the right to criticize.  
"What are you doing here? Why aren't you arresting these people? We have a permit for our march, and they just attacked us!" A woman was shouting with a policeman while one of his colleague looked on in a manner that wasn't very promising. "I can see their weapons from here ! Are you really just gonna stand there ?"  
"Listen, we're just following orders here. Reinforcements are on their way and we will deal with everything correctly once they arrive."  
"But if you keep acting like this," the second officer chimed in with a dark look on his face. "We might have to deal with you first."  
People all around started mumbling in protest. Enjolras was still pushing forward, but Combeferre stopped em with a hand around eir wrist. The blond looked at eir friend with an air of reproach. Combeferre shaked his head softly, indicating that is just wasn't worth it. Enjolras gave up with a sigh.  
They had walked through most of the crowd and now had a rather clear view of the group of counter-protesters. There were maybe fifty of them and a few seemed to be riling up the police officers. Tension sat in Grantaire's stomach like a coiled snake. Without noticing, she was adopting more and more of a fighting stance. She hadn't been to a box club in nearly a year, but some of the reflexes were still there.  
« Stay calm, » Feuilly said behind her. « Don't do anything reckless. »  
Grantaire nodded and tried to keep still. She heard a whistling sound and looked up. White smoke...  
« DOWN ! » she shouted as the tear gas grenade hurtled through the air, aimed almost right at them. Enjolras was standing right in front of her, so she grabbed eir wrist and pulled em down with her.  
People around them started shouting and running in hazardous ways. There were a few cries, of surprise then of pain as the smoke fulfilled its purpose. Grantaire and Enjolras were still crouched down together, eyes cast down, waiting for the crowd to settle around them so that they wouldn't risk being knocked over. The grenade had luckily hit the ground a good few meters away from them, and they quickly got up to get out of the way. A young woman had fallen to the ground right next to them and they helped her up, careful not to touch her skinned hands and knees. Feuilly and Combeferre found them easily and directed them to where the injured were being taken care of. The women showered them with thanks as the students left her.  
The sitution had escaladed quickly. The police had focused on helping the injured, and thus hadn't left enough people to stop the two protest groups from confronting each other. Fists were flying and Grantaire could feel Enjolras become rigid next to her. She was ready to stop em from lounging into the fight, but the poli-sci student seemed to contain emself. The police reinforcements finally arrived, all geared up and with riot shields, and they made quick work of separating the protesters and arresting everyone who resisted or seemed to be carrying a weapon.  
Enjolras sneered. Almost half of the people arrested were ones they had marched with.  
« Come on, » Combeferre said, tugging on Enjolras' wrist. « It's over. We've got nothing left to do here. »  
The group turned around and started walking. They'd only taken a few steps when someone shouted behind them. Grantaire didn't catch what it was that was said, but it didn't sound nice at all. Enjolras stopped walking. Grantaire grabbed eir arm before ey could have try to look back.  
« Don't. It's not worth it. We're not here to make a fuss. »  
« I can't believe they just... »  
« Stop ! You won't achieve anything by going back. Best case scenario ? Police stops you before you can even get in a fight. Worst case scenario ? You get beaten up AND arrested. » She pulled on eir arm and started walking again. « Come on, we've got to go. »  
« And you're just gonna let this stand ?! » Enjolras nearly shouted, shaking eir arm free. Combeferre seemed about to reply, but Grantare beated him to it.  
« Do you think I'm not fucking mad too ? Do you really think I walk around with no feelings whatsoever ? People got hurt, Enjolras. I don't want you to get hurt too. »  
She only noticed afterwards how loud she had been. A few people were looking at her. Enjolras was staring, but ey looked down as soon as Grantaire crossed his gaze, seeming a bit ashamed of emself.  
« Good, » Grantaire couldn't help but think.  
« This situation is shit, but we knew it could happen, and we had a plan. The plan was not to get involved. »  
Enjolras shaked eir head. « Fine, » ey groaned, starting to walk away from the scene and towards the train station. Grantaire noticed that ey wouldn't look Combeferre in the eye, probably afraid to face his disapproval. They had to walk slowly since Feuilly had hurt his ankle. The atmosphere was heavy with anger and disappointment. Grantaire wanted to scream her lungs out.  
Grantaire and Enjolras were the only ones taking the train, since Feuilly went by bus and Combeferre took the metro. The two said goodbye, and Grantaire could see in Combeferre's gaze that he was leaving em in her hands. She sighed, not really sure if she deserved the trust. Then Enjolras started walking towards the platforms, in silence, and Grantaire had no other choice but to follow em. They waited for their train to pull up, still in silence, and climbed in, finding seats facing each other.  
As the train slowly started to ride away from the station, Grantaire finally sighed aloud, putting a hand on the small table separating the seats.  
"Look," she started. "I know you're pissed. And you've got every right to be pissed at those asshats who interrupted the march or at the police for doing nothing to stop them. But you have absolutely no right to be pissed at me or Combeferre or Feuilly for trying to stop you from putting yourself in danger."  
"What?"  
"We care about you, Enjolras, okay? We do. That's why we stopped you. Not because we agreed with them. Not because we _disagreed with you_. But because it just wasn't worth it."  
"Why should I believe you when you say that, since you spend your time trying to tell everyone that you don't care about anything?"  
Grantaire clenched her fist and bit her lip, desperately trying not to start shouting. She didn't know how Enjolras could manage to be this cold. It was hard to even say that ey was angry because of how emotionless eir features were.  
"I pretend, okay?" Grantaire replied, eyes not meeting Enjolras'.  
Jehan had told her she had to get rid of the wall she usually built around herself. Of course he forgot to mention how excruciatingly painful it would be.  
"I pretend that I don't care because it's easier than to care too much like you do. I pretend that I don't care because every time I _do_ care about something, I end up getting hurt. But you know what I can't do? I can't act like I don't care about my friends. I can't act like I don't care about _you_. So please. Please, don't hurt me this way."  
Enjolras' blank façade crumbled a little, letting surprise shine through. Then guilt. Then anger again.  
"But this isn't about you or me. It's about a cause that's bigger than us. It's about a system that -"  
"I KNOW!" Grantaire interrupted, finally losing her temper. "I know, Enjolras. I come to the ABC meetings. I actually listen to what you say there. I _know_ , and you're _right_. But picking a fight at the march wouldn't have changed _anything_ about the system. You would have gotten arrested and the ABC would have lost its leader and you wouldn't have changed _a thing_."  
She stopped a little to take a breath, putting up her hand to clearly signal that she wasn't done talking. "I know I'm not the best person to tell you this but... You've got to pick your battles if you want to win this war. And... and we didn't lose the battle, here. We didn't. The media will probably make a mess of the march, but we were there and we know what happened. We can set the record straight. That's what we have to do."  
The cold anger finally left Enjolras' eyes, and Grantaire had to bite back a sigh of relief. Ey slowly nodded, but kept silent. Grantaire ran a hand through her hair. She would get off the train in two stops, and she didn't know if she wanted Enjolras to keep quiet until then, or if she wanted em to finally talk to her.  
She waited.  
A voice announced that hers was the next stop, so Grantaire picked up her jacket again. She had started standing up when Enjolras slowly took her hand.  
"I'm sorry," ey said. Grantaire stared at em, at a loss. She was afraid the blond would notice how sticky her palms were. "Thank you."  
Ey let her go, just before the trained stopped. She rushed out of it without turning back.

Jehan was typing up an essay when she came into the apartment, but he quickly saved his file and closed it. It had started raining on the way between the station and their apartment, and Grantaire's hair was flattened against her forehead.  
"Hey," Jehan said with a smile. "How did it go?"  
Grantaire shaked her head, sending droplets of water flying in every direction. She then ran a hand through the wet strands to move them out of her eyes. "It went like shit. There was a counter-protest. They threw cans of tear gas. The police didn't stop them in time and when the two groups started getting at each other's throats they just arrested everyone."  
"Are you okay?" Jehan quickly got up, nearly sending his chair tumbling down, and hugged her softly.  
"You're gonna get wet," Grantaire whispered softly, but Jehan just sighed and said he didn't care.  
"Are you okay?"  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Feuilly hurt his ankle, but otherwise we're all fine."  
Jehan tightened his embrace and Grantaire finally gave in, putting her arms around the younger man.  
"Enjolras kind of freaked out, though. I had to stop em from running into the crowd and start a fight and ey... I think ey was angry at me because of it. I... We... We tried to talk in the train back but... yeah. I don't really know how it went."  
Jehan nodded against her chest and she breathed in the smell of his shampoo.  
"I'm glad you didn't get hurt."  
"Yeah. Me too."  
They let each other go. Grantaire wasn't in the mood to work for university, so she set out to make dinner. She tried not to think about anything as she peeled some pears and slowly cooked them in oil and vinegar.  
She and Jehan ate their food and Grantaire explained what had happened in a bit more details as her friend listened attentively. Then they did the washing up together, Jehan protesting when Grantaire grabbed a towel, saying he could do it alone since she had cooked already. But she shaked her head and started drying the plates, wanting to keep herself occupied.  
Finally, Jehan went back to his work, and Grantaire slipped into her room. She stared at her computer, then grabbed her pajamas and went to take a shower.  
Half an hour later, she finally opened her laptop. She logged in to Facebook and slowly went through her few notifications. There was a new post on the ABC page, linking to an article on their website. Grantaire opened it with a frown.  
The piece was titled "Peace as an act of Violence" and there was a small mention at the top.  
"Dedicated to R."


	19. Chapter 19

Grantaire took the train to class the next day, like she always did. She was half-asleep as she climbed in and found herself a seat. It took her a few seconds to realise that the vibration she could feel came from her mobile phone, and not the train itself. She pulled out the device and flipped it open. There was a new text waiting to be read. A text from Enjolras. She frowned.

Enjolras: Did you take the 7:18 train?

It was the one she was in right now. She was feeling a little weirded out, but still replied honestly.

R: Just climbed in. Why?

The response came almost immediately.

Enjolras: Front or back?  
R: Back of the train. WHY?

No reply. Grantaire sighed, smoothing down the fabric of her skirt self-consciously. She looked around the carriage at the other commuters. She felt like someone was watching her and shuddered at the thought, cursing Enjolras' cryptic way of texting. The train started driving away and she settled to stare out the window.  
Rhythmical footsteps echoed through the train despite the closed door, and she turned towards where the noise was coming from. She was only half-surprised to see Enjolras walk through the door and walk towards her, heeled shoes making enough noise for all the carriage to notice em. Ey sat down in front of Grantaire without saying a word.  
"Please, do take a seat," Grantaire coldly said. Enjolras didn't even seem to notice her sarcasm. "To what do I owe this honor?"  
Enjolras was staring right ahead of em, directly at Grantaire's face, but without seeing her. Eir fixed gaze gave her the creeps. After a few seconds during which Grantaire felt her palms start to sweat, Enjolras slowly shaked eir head.  
"I..." ey started, then stopped. Ey frowned, looked down, then back up at Grantaire. "I'm sorry for yesterday. What I... did. And what I said. You were just trying to help and I..."  
"Enjolras."  
The blond straightened up a bit at her call. Ey looked lost, surprised that Grantaire had interrupted em. Perhaps ey didn't expect her to actually grace em with conversation. She sighed.  
« Look. You were an ass yesterday. »  
Enjolras flinched at that, but didn't protest, so she kept going.  
« I was trying to help, and I was hurt by the way you treated me afterwards, sure. But... I don't know. I read your article. I know you're sorry. I know you didn't really realise what you were doing and... I guess I already stopped being mad at you. So it's okay. »  
« That's the thing though, » Enjolras said, running a hand through eir hair. It wasn't braided at all today, and the long strands fell across eir face in slight waves. « It shouldn't be this easy. You shouldn't just... forgive me like this. Because otherwise I'm going to do something stupid again, and you'll brush it off again and... and we'll never make this work. »  
Grantaire's heart clenched. Did ey mean that ? She wanted to believe. She wanted to believe that she wasn't just reading too much into this, that there was actually something there. It all felt childishly hopeful but maybe...  
« Make what work ? » she asked, heart beating fast.  
Enjolras looked away, biting at eir lower lip. Grantaire noticed that ey had a light lipstick on and had to stop herself from smiling.  
« I'm not... really sure. »  
Ey was blushing.  
« You're blushing. » Grantaire hadn't actually meant for the words to come out, but she wouldn't take them back either. Enjolras' pale cheeks reddened even more.  
It was such an unexpected sight that Grantaire thought she was going to laugh. Or stare. Still, she proved herself that she did have some willpower left by not doing either of those things.  
« I... I don't know, okay ? I don't usually do these things. I don't usually have to do these things. »  
Eir tone was accusatory and Grantaire felt it like a cold rush through her body. So she had been reading too much into this.  
« You don't usually have to do what ? Carry basic conversations ? You don't usually have to actually put some effort into being friends with someone ? I'm really sorry if people usually fall at your feet to kiss your boots, Enjolras. » She shuddered at the thought. The image was just a little bit too suggestive for her to feel comfortable about it.  
Ey ran a hand through eir hair again in frustration.  
« It's not... It's not that at all, » ey once again looked down. « You don't understand. »  
« Then fucking explain it to me, Enjolras ! Because I'm sick of being this ragged little doll that you can pick up and play with whenever you want and then forget on the floor again. I'm not your toy. »  
« I would never think like that ! » Enjolras replied in a rush, something that almost looked like fear in eir eyes. « I never meant... »  
Ey sighed, and Grantaire raised her eyebrows challengingly. She had said her part, and it felt relieving almost, to know that she had stood up for herself. A small side of her still wanted to take all of these words back, to ask Enjolras to treat her as ey saw fit, as long as she was eirs. She quieted it easily. Nothing good would come out of such a relationship.  
« I never meant to treat you that way. I'm sorry that's how you felt. » Enjolras' blue eyes were now focused on Grantaire's, and she felt a shiver run through her body. « What I meant is... I... Most of my relationships are easy. I either like someone and get along with them, or I don't like them at all. And then you... I can't wrap my head around you because you don't fit the pattern. »  
Grantaire was confused now. Something in Enjolras' eyes told her ey wanted her to say something, but she didn't know what.  
« You infuriate me. You criticise everything I believe in and you constantly act like you don't give a shit and I can't stand it. But I also don't hate you. I... I don't understand you. But... I kind of want to. »  
It felt like a strange echo of when they had had lunch together. When she had promised to try.  
« The world isn't black and white, Enjolras. »  
« I know. »  
« Do you ? Because I don't see it. I see you and your idealism, how you speak about what is right and what is wrong. But do you know anything about what it's like to live in the grey ? »  
« I... »  
« You act all mighty and pure, but do you know what it's like to fail ? To fail others and to fail yourself ? Do you know how much it hurts to stand back up ? »  
Grantaire didn't really know what answer she wanted to hear. Part of her clinged to Enjolras as someone above her, someone untouchable. With these words, she was hurting herself as much as she was trying to get to her friend.  
« I'm human, Grantaire. »  
And that said it all. With these little word ey had acknowledged all of Grantaire's thoughts, and she felt the shame twist in her stomach. She was the one who looked away this time.  
« Sorry. »  
Enjolras sighed. « I... I really don't have a lot of experience with those things, » ey said quietly, a slight blush appearing on eir cheeks once more. « But... I... I think I might like you. »  
Grantaire opened her mouth slightly, but no word came out. She stared at Enjolras.  
Enjolras stared back, blushing and worrying eir lips earneastly. It was adorable, if Grantaire was honest with herself, but that was absolutely not the point right now. It was extremely far away from the point. On the other side of the universe from the point.  
« Are you saying that you like me or that you like-like me ? » she ended up asking.  
Enjolras whined. A genuine, high-pitched whine that would haunt Grantaire's mind for days on end. Ey put a hand on eir forehead.  
« Do I really have to answer that ? »  
« You fucking bet you do ! You called me infuriating less than five minutes ago and you're surprised that I'm confused when you say you like me ? »  
Enjolras dropped eir hand.  
« You said it yourself. The world isn't black and white. I can like you and still be unusually frustrated by certain parts of your personality. I can like-like you, » Ey grimaced as ey said the words. « And still find you infuriating. »  
« So you like-like me ? »  
« Yes. I think I like-like you. »  
« Really ? »  
Enjolras sighed and turned eir head away and towards the window.  
« Shit. Shit! Grantaire ! »  
« What ?! » Grantaire said, snapping out of her confusion to shout when she heard the surprise in Enjolras' voice. She was slightly panicking. Nothing about the situation made sense to her, even less so the fact that Enjolras seemed to be panicking too. « Why are you panicking ? You don't get to be panicking about this. »  
« Grantaire, we missed our stops. »  
The young woman turned to the window. Sure enough, the both of them had missed their stops. She tried to deduce where they actually were from the scenery around the train. No idea.  
She turned towards Enjolras. Ey looked genuinely fear-stricken.  
Grantaire couldn't help herself. She started laughing loudly, gathering more glares from the passengers around them, who had already been frustrated by their various outbursts.  
« Grantaire. Grantaire ! »  
She tried to stop her laughter, but it bubbled up again. She held up one hand to keep Enjolras from doing anything and looked away from em, slowly gathering her breath.  
« This is not funny. »  
« Oh my god, » she replied with a roll of her eyes. « Stop being so dramatic ! » She was still smiling, unable to be mad in front of Enjolras' ridiculousness. « We'll just go down at the next stop. We're going to miss our first class, sure. But it's no big deal. »  
« I... »  
« Hey, » Grantaire said reassuringly, reaching for Enjolras' face across the small train table. She slowly ran a finger across eir cheek. « It's o- »  
She froze.  
What the hell was she doing ?  
Enjolras was frozen too, gaze shifting between her face and her hand on em. She quickly took it back.  
« Sorry, I... Sorry. I don't know what I... »  
« I didn't mind. »  
Right. Because Enjolras liked her. So, supposedly, ey was kind of okay with her touching em. That was... unexpected. Weird. Fucking terrifying, if she had to be honest.  
Enjolras seemed to misinterpret her silence, as ey quickly added. « Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just... »  
Grantaire held up a hand again.  
« You need to stop doing that, » Enjolras sighed.  
She stared at her hand. It was true that she tended to use this gesture a lot, especially around Enjolras. « Huh-huh. Okay, but right now I need you to stop talking. »  
The train started slowing down, and Grantaire cursed the timing but still grabbed Enjolras' hand to get em out of it.  
« Keep not talking for a while, okay ? »  
She couldn't see it, as she was leading the way down the platform, but she would have bet her left hand that Enjolras was rolling eir eyes. They took some stairs down, walked through some kind of underground tunnel, then climbed back up and finally reached the station. Grantaire looked up to the sign and realised that they had stayed in the train for three more stops after Enjolras'.  
She turned back to the blond.  
« First of all... I can't quite get my head around the like-like thing but - »  
"I would rather we just quit talking about it if it makes you so uncomfortable," Enjolras said with an angry frowned.  
"I told you to stop talking for a while, okay? Just... Just hear me out."  
Resigned, Enjolras nodded.  
"I'm freaked out by the whole like-like thing because I would never have imagined it was something that could actually happen. At least not now. But... It's not... I don't mind."  
Enjolras raised an eyebrow, and Grantaire started playing with one of her feet out of nervousness.  
"Because I kind of like-like you too."  
Grantaire wrapped an arm around her stomach and stared at the ground. She had done it. She had said the words. To Enjolras. Who had actually been the first one to say the words. It felt amazing in a really terrible way. Terrible as in "inspiring terror", not as in unwanted.  
Now that all of those things were hanging in the air between them, she didn't know what to do. She had never imagined the next step, because she had never dreamed that she would take the first.  
She finally looked up.  
Enjolras was watching her. Ey raised one corner of eir mouth in what was probably an attempt at smiling gone ridiculously wrong, and she couldn't help but giggle. She bit down on her lip and looked away again.  
The whole situation was both ridiculous and awkward. Far away from the ending of a good romcom. Where was the advantageous lighting ? The cheesy music ? Where were the twinkling eyes and the butterflies in the stomach that threatened to make even the audience fly up to the sky ?  
There were fingers on her cheeks and Grantaire jerked away instinctively before realising that they were Enjolras'. She grabbed eir wrist before ey could take eir hand away.  
« Sorry, I... Sorry, » she whispered, carefully placing Enjolras's fingers back on her skin.  
« It's okay, » ey replied, stroking Grantaire's cheekbone with one thumb.  
And oh. There were the butterflies.  
The woman smiled.  
« I'm... I'm not really sure what happens, now, » she admitted.  
Enjolras frowned slightly, but didn't drop eir hand. « I guess we... try something. »  
Ey took a step forward, still touching Grantaire's skin, and tilted eir head slightly. Grantaire leaned forward.  
When their lips met, it was with the barest of touch, and they both smiled as they pulled apart.  
They met again in the middle.


	20. Epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... is it, guys. This is the end of this fic that I started more than a year ago. It has been a wild ride, with moments during which I thought I would never manage to get going. Tunnel Lights is the longest story I ever finished, and I definitely learned a lot of things writing it. For example, that I should really plan the plot more before publishing something. Also, that I’m terrible at keeping track of side-characters. But yeah. It’s been a pleasure.

Grantaire and Enjolras' fingers were entertwined as they looked up at the screens.  
"Is this serious?" Enjolras asked, scanning the green text for the fourth time. "Is this actually happening?"  
Grantaire smiled, tightening her grip on Enjolras' hand. "It could be worse."  
Ey turned to her with a grin before agreeing. "It could be worse."  
Grantaire pulled on eir arm in direction of the exit. "Come on then. If we have to wait for a full hour, we're certainly not doing it here!"  
Enjolras rolled eir eyes but followed her anyway, not seeming too distressed about it either.  
"Do you want ice-cream?" Grantaire suddenly asked. This was a romantic thing to do, right? Eat ice-cream together? Besides, who could say no to ice-cream?  
"Grantaire. It's 8 in the morning."  
Ah. Yes. She hadn't considered that. Still, something as subjective and immaterial as time would never stand between her and deliciousness.  
"So? Your answer was kind of irrelevant, you know. It isn't a trick question. Do you want ice-cream or not?"  
Enjolras was silent for a few seconds. Grantaire had to be amazed at how seriously ey took everything. The fact that she found it endearing would probably make Eponine puke in her mouth a little. Even if she was one to talk.  
"i have to admit that now I kinda do," Enjolras finally replied. Grantaire did an internal victory dance. "But I'm not really sure we can find an ice-cream parlor here. Especially at this time of the day. Or of the year."  
Grantaire shrugged. She hadn't really figured out that part of the plan yet, but it wasn't really an issue either. She looked around her at the small town they had arrived in. It really wasn't much, a glorified kind of suburbs that had somehow clinged to its air of countryside and the name that separated it from the actual city.  
"Even this place must have a grocery store, right? We could probably get some cones there."  
They started walking, still holding each other's hand. The silence was much more comfortable than it would have been just an hour earlier.  
Grantaire still couldn't quite believe that this morning was actually happening. She would have pinched her arm if she wasn't so afraid to actually wake up.  
A buzzing noise startled her from her thoughts, and Enjolras excused emself as ey let go of her hand to reach eir cellphone.  
Ey unlocked it and sighed, looking up at Grantaire with an apologetic sigh.  
"Combeferre is wondering where I am. I told him I would see him before his class since I was coming in early."  
Grantaire furrowed her eyebrows. She had thought that Enjolras was also going to university and that they had just happened to take the same train.  
"You actually took an earlier train just so that you might have a chance to talk to me?"  
"Huh," Enjolras started, embarrassed. "I... I really wanted to talk to you. After yesterday. I thought... I thought I owed it to you, I guess. It wasn't... It wasn't anything, I just... Yeah."  
Grantaire grinned. "Oh my. I actually managed to render you unable to speak. This is amazing."  
"Why do I have a feeling that you will make ill use of this knowledge?"  
"Me? Slander! I am the most innocent person you will ever meet."  
Enjolras gave her a pointed look, to which she replied with her best puppy eyes. Ey rolled eir eyes in what Grantaire decided to call a fond way.  
"Let me just reassure him, okay?"  
"Sure. Happy to wait."  
She really was.

(The grocery store they found didn't sell cones in boxes small enough for two. Grantaire and Enjolras shared a tub of Ben & Jerry's on the train back towards their respective universities.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently in a heavy Pacific Rim phase, which means that the next few weeks will probably be dedicated to posting Pacific Rim fanfics. It doesn’t mean I’m leaving the Les Mis fandom though, far from that. Actually, if you have requests for ficlets/drabbles about Les Mis, I would love to have some short things to work on while I focus on editing the PacRim stuff I wrote.  
> Send me prompts through tumblr at demonsonthemoon.tumblr.com


End file.
